


A Twist of Fate (Fate Zero & Fate Stay/Night:UBW)

by Eritrea_Yunani



Category: Bleach, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 05:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 48
Words: 87,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10960710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eritrea_Yunani/pseuds/Eritrea_Yunani
Summary: Join our female protagonist, Eritrea Yunani, as she embarks on a quest of adventure, companionship and self-discovery. Involved in a war with a wish to end it, will she find her true purpose in love or a different world?Features minor characters from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and Bleach. Contains elements of Christianity. Certain parts of the story like the mana restoration will deviate from the original.Under no circumstances do I allow this work to be copied, sold, reprinted and/or claimed as someone else's. Infringement of these terms will have you reported. All artwork and soundtracks featured in this story belong to their respective owners. If it belongs to you and you'd like to be specifically credited or have it removed, please hit me up. :)





	1. Chapter 1

 

**Chapter One: A Higher Calling**

_"My child, I have entrusted you with a task. Be on your guard, I will send someone to prepare you. Another will come later, when he does you are to tell him these exact words, is_ _tú_ _mo_ _rogha_ _."_

_"What if I fail, Father?"_

_"This is your destiny, my child. I shall guard you from every evil. I shall guard your very life. I will guard you now, and I will guard you always."_

**Fuyuki** **City, Japan.**   
_Ringing. Cellphone. Who would call at this hour? No, it's the alarm I set the night before. No, that's not it either. I set the alarm for six forty-five._

"Mattaku..." groaned the fifteen year old in Japanese, gripping her head as she tried to stop the faint ringing that came from within. Deciding she could not fall back asleep after that vision, she got up in the chilly darkness and brewed a cup of tea. The hands of the clock read four thirty.

Eritrea sat on the edge of her balcony, looking at the moon. The strange ringing was still in her head. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the warm mug of tea. When they opened, she remembered the vision she had minutes ago.

 _That was no dream, it was a message from the Lord. I don't know what's going on. But I will trust You. Is_ _tú_ _mo_ _rogha_ _..._

The faint ringing stopped.

 _Is_ _tú_ _mo_ _rogha_ _._

 **Background** **.**  
When her mother passed away due to an incurable sickness, Eritrea Yunani was raised by her father. But her father's overwhelming workload meant that the young girl was left to her own devices most of the time. And when he himself had died due to old age and depression from the passing of his wife, Eritrea was assigned to a guardian from Christchurch Cathedral in Fuyuki City. A selfless priest who had also been a family friend for many years was given the responsibility of ensuring her well-being.

Precocious and adamant on being independent, the ten year old had insisted that she tend to her own needs, with her caretaker providing commodities such as money and food. This resulted in her residing alone in the mansion her parents had left behind, and the priest coming in on a weekly basis to bring basic necessities as well as to check up on her.

She thought well of him, but preferred to live on a solitary basis. Eritrea valued her time alone and was comfortable living by herself. Privacy was something she held dear and thus, her circle of friends were small and carefully selected.

**One year ago.**   
_Pastor Alex is such a nice man._

Eritrea was feeling especially appreciative of her guardian today as she walked home with bags of food. Now that she was a teenager, she didn't have to rely on Pastor Alex to purchase the groceries anymore. She chuckled at the thought of the European priest with his blond mustache, blue eyes, ludicrously large muscles and the piece of blond hair that stuck out his forehead.

Then someone shoved her and she landed on her bottom on the sidewalk. She turned around just quick enough to catch a teenage boy running away, completely unperturbed by his impertinence. Eritrea shouted at the boy.

"You could try running with your eyes open next time, jackass!"

You'd have thought that a child raised by a priest would have a less acerbic tongue. Eritrea got on her knees and started picking up the fallen groceries. A light-skinned arm reached out.

"Here, let me help you with that."

She looked up to see a blonde woman with blue eyes and full lips. Her waist long hair curled at the ends, accentuating her slender yet well-muscled build.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." replied Eritrea.

When all her things were gathered, the two ladies stood up and the blonde extended a hand.

"I'm Olivier Mira Armstrong. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."  
"Eritrea Yunani. The pleasure is mine."   
"A firm handshake. Not many teenagers do that."  
"Thank you. Are you a tourist?"  
"Hardly. As it so happens, meeting you was no coincidence."

Eritrea's hands tensed in suspicion.

"Care to elaborate?"  
"Is tú mo rogha."  
"How could you know that? Are you the first?" gasped the teenager.  
"That's right. I have been sent to prepare you for the task you were entrusted with. Shall we discuss this in a more private setting?"

Since that encounter with Lady Olivier, Eritrea had lived and trained with the European woman, preparing herself for the imminent battle.

 **One year later**.  
Eritrea was out for a night walk in the city, caused by a bout of insomnia. Just like her mind, her feet wandered aimlessly. And they wandered perhaps a little too far. She woke from her flashback when a gradual headache and shortness of breath occurred.

Before Eritrea's knees collapsed beneath her, she leaned against the wall of a building. Then she felt a burst of invisible energy in the air. Her eyes widened as she realized that the streets were now eerily empty. Following her intuition, she directed her gaze behind her.

A hooded figure stood in the dark, something sharp in hand. Eritrea immediately reached for her own weapon, preparing herself. The pickpocket made a dash for her. They brawled for ten minutes when this tussle should have ended in less than one.

She would have incapacitated the thief right there and then were it not for the unusually terrible migraine and dizziness she felt. Despite her circumstances, she had landed a few good punches and kicks. The pickpocket was wounded but still, he charged at her.

_Damn, you are one persistent mugger. Come on, give me a break. It's not like I have a lot of cash right now._

Eritrea fell backwards into a puddle inside a darkened alley. Her weapon flew out of grasp and the attacker was closing in on her. The next moment, a blinding light erupted between them and a figure appeared.

Wisps of cloud lay at the feet of what seemed to be a man clad in dark green battle regalia. The pickpocket, wrecked with fear, ran away immediately. The figure kneeling on the ground stood up, one lance in each hand.

"I ask of you," said the stranger. "are you my master?"

 _First this darn headache and now someone appearing out of nowhere. Maybe this is just a nightmare._ _Wouldn't be the first time._

"Who the hell are you?"

The gentleman completely disregarded Eritrea's lack of manners and responded with a firm tone.

"I am Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, First Spear of the Knights of Fianna. Are you my master?"

Eritrea groaned, clutching her forehead, "Listen mate, I appreciate you scaring off that pickpocket, even if it was by accident. But I've had a long day and I'm not feeling my best right now. So whoever or whatever you are, I hope you get home safe, because that's where I'm going."

In the gloom of the alleyway, only the man's stunning amber eyes could be seen clearly. Those very eyes which upon his arrival, gleamed with reverence and eagerness to serve, were now clouded with anger and mistrust.

"Is this some form of trickery? Are you feigning your sickness because you are an enemy servant's master? I will have you slain in this very spot if that is so."  
"Woah, hold on-"

The stranger was now walking towards Eritrea, his two lances in hand, ready to attack.

Her intuition was buzzing. She should be terrified. People are usually afraid when they're about to be skewered. But she remained calm. If anything, she felt herself in a position of power instead of fear. Her eyebrows furrowed.

_There's something I must do. I'm suppose to say something. Of all the times this headache could have occurred. Honestly._

It was there, just within her grasp, at the tip of her tongue. One clear thought was all she needed. One crystal clear thought that would slice through the mire and save her life.

The magic words came like the sharp, sudden prick of a sewing needle. Eritrea's uncertainty vanished and she looked up at the stranger with steely eyes, standing her ground as she spoke with authority.

"Is tú mo rogha."

He stopped in his tracks. Realizing his terrible mistake, he knelt down in atonement.

"It _is_ you. I apologize unreservedly, master. I did not know."

Eritrea raised him to his feet, "It's alright, let's just get back to my place first. My headache is not subsiding."  
"Would you prefer me to carry you back, master?"  
"No, it's fine. I can walk. It's not too far from here anyway."

After dusting herself off and getting up from her fall like she had so many times in her life, Eritrea Yunani was both amused and irritated.

_I thought the Irish people were supposed to be friendly._

**Author's Note: '** **Mattaku** **' means goodness and 'is** **tú** **mo** **rogha** **' is Irish for 'you are my chosen one.** **'**

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

****

**Chapter Two: Introductions**  

A continuous ringing was all that could be heard in the silence. The servant Diarmuid was standing sentry by the window.

In their short journey back to Eritrea's residence, no one had said a word. He would have attempted conversation but he sensed that the young lady desired no such thing. After four rings, someone picked up on the other end.

"Eritrea?"  
"Sensei. It's done."  
"That's quite early... Are you having trouble with your servant?"  
"Īe. I merely thought it best to consult you on our next move after his arrival."  
"I'm on holiday at the moment, love; got some spies to track down. But we'll talk when I get back."  
"Understood, Sensei. Happy hunting."

Both teacher and student smiled, then the link was severed and Eritrea pocketed her cellphone. With her back facing Diarmuid, she spoke.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about your mark, Diarmuid. I don't practice magic so you'll simply have to bear with the repercussions of the love spot when you materialize in public. As you well know I do not possess the three command seals the other masters have. Our pact is formed and anchored solely because the Lord provides me the strength to do so."   
"Apologies, master. But how did you know about my mark?"  
"You said your name was Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, correct? I read a book on your legend when I was a child."

Eritrea paused to look at her watch.

"It's been half and hour since you appeared and almost impaled me with that spear of yours." she remarked pointedly.   
"I am deeply sorry for that mistake, master."   
"Apology accepted, you ought to know first and foremost that death by long-ass spear is not my preferred way to go."

Diarmuid was about to ask what his master meant by 'long-ass' as he did not see the connection between his weapon and a farm animal (and a long one, at that) but Eritrea had already resumed talking.

"Now then, introductions."

Turning around and walking towards him, she extended a hand only to see that the man was kneeling on the floor, his head stooped in reverence.

She bent down on her haunches in front of him. This caused him to bow his head even lower. 

"We're a team. You bow to no one."  
"As you wish, master." smiled Diarmuid, getting up on his feet.  
"It'll be dawn soon, you should get some rest before we make further plans. We can continue our introductions in the morning."  
"What about you, master?"  
"I wish to be left alone for now, thank you. The guest room is through the second door down the hallway."  
"Thank you, master."

Eritrea retired to her own room and sat on the edge of the balcony. The moon was beginning to fade away into daytime. In the quietude of dawn, she recalled a not too distant memory.

Eritrea was training with Lady Olivier using a Bō. After landing on her face over and over, even the strong-willed teenager was beginning to lose her concentration. She was getting flustered and it showed in her expression. The European Sensei caught sight of this.

"Either drown beneath the waves or rise above the tempest. There is no other option."

At this, a burning resolve shone through her eyes. Eritrea got back up and continued training with laser focus until she perfected her form.

A blinding ray of sunshine brought Eritrea back to the present. Feeling slightly groggy, she hopped off the ledge and headed towards her bed.

_If I'm going to devise a temporary strategy before_ _Sensei's_ _return, I'll need to be well-rested._

Five hours later, Eritrea woke up to a handsome young man carrying a mug of tea. She would have shrieked had she not remembered that this young gentleman was her servant.

"Thank you." she said, sipping on the green tea Diarmuid prepared.  
"Is it to your liking?"  
"It's excellent. Now, I suggest we discuss matters further in the living room downstairs."  
"Of course, master."

Settled comfortably on the chaise longue, Eritrea began.

"We didn't really conclude on our introductions last night but I think I know the basics already. I will call you Lancer in public so that your identity won't be revealed to our enemies. Likewise you should address me by my first name in the presence of strangers and opponents. Now, tell me more about your skills and Noble Phantasm."

Diarmuid couldn't help but be impressed. This girl, no, this young lady, comported herself with a certain maturity that belied her youth.

"You seem to have considerable knowledge on these matters, master. I agree with your conditions and will elaborate on my powers but to address you by your first name would be a form of insolence I cannot allow."  
"My Sensei enlightened me on these particulars during my training. If you insist on calling me master or anything else, it will have to be in private or if we're engaged in combat since the enemy would already know who I am."  
"Very well, master."

Lancer proceeded to tell his newly-avowed master about himself. An hour passed and the pair found themselves in a debate of sorts.

"Don't take this the wrong way but I personally think that speed can never outdo raw, destructive power."  
"I beg to differ, master. It seems I will have to prove otherwise. I wonder what your expressions are like when you find yourself in the wrong." smirked Diarmuid, taking up his master's lack of conviction in him as a challenge.  
"Oh, I wouldn't know. I'm not familiar with the sensation."

After breakfast, Eritrea went about her activities while Diarmuid was on guard at her side. While she was using her computer, the servant spoke.

"Master, may I ask you a question?"  
Her eyes remained fixed on the screen.  
"Knock yourself out."

Lancer, unfamiliar with certain modern linguistics, believed this to be a test of loyalty and ability to follow orders without question, no matter how ridiculous that order may seem. So he did exactly that.

"Very well."

Raising one closed fist, he hit himself squarely in the jaw and fell onto the edge of a chair.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she exclaimed wide eyed, rushing to his side.  
"I was simply carrying out your orders, master. Was it not your command to have me knock myself out?" he asked, innocence mixed with a grimace from the pain.  
"Idiot, when I said knock yourself out I meant go ahead, it's a figure of speech."

Eritrea chortled heartily before rubbing his jawline.

"Oh, poor baby. Is it all that painful?"  
"Quite, I'm afraid I hit myself rather forcefully."  
"Alright fool, sit tight, I'll go grab an ice pack for you."

As he waited for her return Lancer chuckled lightly to himself, believing he had somewhat discerned his master's disposition.

_I have a feeling this is going to be quite a ride._

Eritrea spent the rest of the afternoon studying and training. Diarmuid had even helped refine her attacks and defense with the Bō, as it was similar to the lances he used in battle.

After a shower and early dinner, Eritrea was sprawled across the chaise longue, continuing her book. Her servant stood in front of her, observing his master's antics. For a participant of the Holy Grail War, his master seemed very relaxed. Finally, Diarmuid mustered the courage to ask.

"Master, if I may, what exactly are we waiting for?"  
"If you mean why we're not in some lonely place way out in the middle of nowhere, drenched in the blood of our enemies and covered in wounds then it's because we're waiting for my Sensei's return. I can strategize on my own but I prefer going to her for advice." replied the sixteen year old, her eyes still focused on the pages of her book.  
"I see. I do believe that that is a wise decision, master."

After a long while of silence, Eritrea snapped the book shut and looked out the window, causing her servant to inquire.

"Is something wrong, master?"

She simply stood up and headed towards the door.

"Come, Diarmuid. We're going for a walk."

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

**Chapter Three: Family Reunion**

Eritrea played tour guide for a day as she led Diarmuid around the city to familiarize himself with the surroundings. She had also brought a map and a pen to mark down combat areas where Diarmuid would hold the advantage, as well as the possible areas where their enemies would attack, just to be on the lookout.

It was a pleasant evening, a romantic one too had they been a loving couple instead of master and servant. As the two strolled side by side in the sunset, Eritrea felt particularly lost in thought. She remembered the legend of Diarmuid she had read many years ago and glanced at her servant.

"Lancer, were you truly happy in your time with Grainne?"

The chosen topic of conversation took Diarmuid by surprise but he answered all the same.

"Indeed I was. I had never been so smitten. I remember during our travels together, she teased me for being so reserved, saying that even a splash of water on her leg was more adventurous than I was."

The corners of his lips turned upwards slightly at the memory.

"Master? Is something the matter?" he asked, looking at Eritrea.  
"No, it's just... I read that she married Fionn after your passing."

The servant stopped in his tracks.

"Lancer?"

Diarmuid stood against the golden backdrop. The last rays shone into his eyes and it dawned on Eritrea.

"You didn't know."

She stepped towards her servant, an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry."  
"It's quite alright." he replied, beautiful amber eyes now dull and doleful. "I'm glad that she found happiness after such an ordeal. I never wanted her to spend the remainder of her days grieving."  
"Do you really think she was happy after that?"  
"I served a benevolent and generous king. If Lord Fionn truly loved her, then I'm certain he did all in his power to make her happy. In all honesty, I am relieved."

Eritrea nodded once in agreement.  
 _Your countenance is not that of a man relieved_.  
But she kept that thought to herself.

As the golden hour turned to twilight, Eritrea finally broke the silence.

"Let's go home." she said with a comforting smile.  
"Let's." smiled the servant in return.

Out of nowhere, a dark figure flung Diarmuid away with so much force that he crashed into a building.

"Lancer!" cried Eritrea, drawing one of her katanas, and not a second too soon.

A loud clang reverberated as one sword came in contact with another. Eritrea was strong, but the mad servant was far stronger. With his weight and inhumane power bearing down on her, she could hold out no longer.

"Master!" yelled Diarmuid, rushing to her aid.

Berserker knocked away Eritrea's katana and sheer terror filled Lancer's expression.

_Too late._

Then the dark figure went flying backwards and colliding with a street lamp.

Eritrea's eyes widened in disbelief.

_How did-_

"Have you stooped so low, Lancelot, that you would engage in combat without first making known your presence?" said a kingly voice.

Eritrea looked up to see a blonde knight wielding a powerful sword, honor and regality etched in her brow.

_Masaka_ _. Could it be..._

"Saber." said Diarmuid, waking his master from her thoughts. "You saved my master's life, I owe you a debt of gratitude."  
"As a knight, I could not stand idly by and watch a worthy opponent defeated by means of deceit."

Berserker growled and stood up. Lifting his head, he made a blood-curdling cry.

"Prepare yourself! I am your opponent now." exclaimed Saber.

Having retreated to a safe distance, Lancer and his master witnessed the ongoing battle. Eritrea began to analyze the situation.

_Saber's master is nowhere to be seen. We'll have to wait until the fight is over for a chance to determine his or her identity. One of Berserker's most valuable skills is tremendously fortifying anything he gets his hands on, he might reach for my sword. No good, it's too far away to retrieve without getting caught in the crossfire. For now we must rely on the fabled swordplay of the King of Knights._

"Master."  
"Yes, Lancer?"  
"Are we really to stand by and do nothing?"  
"I would ask you to assist Saber. However, are you sure that would not sully her pride? You are, after all, interfering with _her_ battle."  
"I believe that in times like these, victory takes precedence over pride. We do owe her for saving your life."  
"Very well."

Diarmuid made a small bow before dashing away to help Saber. Though his madness gave him otherworldly strength, against two formidable knights, Berserker was outmatched. In two hours, the fight was over. Eritrea picked up the sword she had lost earlier. Sheathing it, she turned around to speak to Saber.

"Saber, thank you for saving my life. I hope that Lancer assisting you is a fair way of repaying that deed."  
"It was nothing. I thank you and Lancer for helping me."

From the shadows, a man approached them. Saber hurried to his side.

"Master, it is done. Berserker has been defeated."  
"Understood."   
_You..._ thought Eritrea, incredulous.  
"I'm glad you're alright." said the man.  
"What are you doing here?"  
"I am Saber's master in this war."

Eritrea's lips pulled taut in momentary silence.

"Thank you for your help, but we're leaving now."  
"Eritrea, wait. Are you hurt-" spoke the man, reaching out for her arm.

Eritrea pushed it away, her hostility apparent, "Forget it. I didn't need you then, and I don't need you now. Lancer, time to go."  
"Yes, master." replied Diarmuid, picking up his master and vanishing into the night.

The man stared at the sky above, sighing to himself.

"Kiritsugu. Did you know that young lady?" asked Saber.

"Yes. She's my niece."

 **The next morning.**  
"Master, it's time to wake up." said Diarmuid, gently pulling the covers off of Eritrea.

Seeing his smile was like being woken up by warm sunshine. The v-necked sweater Diarmuid wore exposed his toned upper body as he leaned forward.

_Is this a dream? Maybe I'm not awake yet._

Eritrea snapped out of her daydream. Not wanting to show any sign of tender emotion, she feigned irritation instead.

"Alright, alright, five more minutes and I'll be up."

Diarmuid went downstairs after that to continue making breakfast while Eritrea reached for the handphone and earbuds on her bedside table. She sighed and threw herself backwards, spread-eagled across the bed as she stared at the ceiling.

Eritrea placed an earbud in one ear, leaving the other be so she could pay attention to her voice and hear if she hit the notes correctly.

_Play soundtrack above before proceeding._

Unlike his master's assumptions, Diarmuid hadn't actually gone downstairs. Breakfast was already prepared so he waited outside, eager to pester Eritrea instead of allowing her to go back to sleep. She was far too focused on the song to notice anything else.

Diarmuid peeked through the door that he left ajar. The melody was lovely and slightly heartbreaking. He listened attentively and understood the words with the gift of tongues granted to all Heroic Spirits.

As the song approached its end, he smiled, gazing at her through the gap of the wooden door. After the final note, Eritrea sighed again.

Meanwhile, Diarmuid looked at the ground, the corners of his lips still upturned. Then he swiftly took his leave so that his master wouldn't realize he had been there the entire time.

When Eritrea descended from her room and sat down at the dining table, Diarmuid place a plate of freshly-cooked pancakes in front of her. She was halfway through her breakfast when someone knocked on their door. Before Diarmuid could move from his seat, Eritrea stood up.

"Stay, I'll get it."

She paced to the door and opened it to receive a very unwelcome presence.

"Oh. And to what do I owe this displeasure?"  
"Eritrea, I know I don't deserve a second chance but I need to explain. Will you let me?"  
"...Come in."

All three of them were settled in the living room. The stranger who walked in was none other than Kiritsugu. He sat in an armchair, trying to restrain his fidgeting.

 _Most unusual._ thought Eritrea. _He's often so composed._

Diarmuid stood beside his master with his weapon in hand, eyeing the stranger dubiously. He didn't trust this man not to attempt some form of attack.

"Well? Are you going to talk or should I wait until tomorrow?"  
"Eritrea, I'm sorry for everything that's happened. For not being there to raise you."  
Diarmuid cut in, "Forgive me, master but who is this?"  
"Oh that's right, I'm sorry. Lancer this is my uncle, Kiritsugu. Uncle, my servant, Lancer."

The two men nodded at each other before Kiritsugu continued.

"My wish is to save the world."  
"Excuse me?"  
"My wish, to the Holy Grail. I want to bring about a world with no suffering."  
"Impossible. The idea is absurdity in itself. I admire your ideals but surely you don't believe that something like that exists beyond fantasies?"  
"Then what do _you_ strive for? What is your purpose of fighting this war?"  
"My wish is to end the Holy Grail War. Similar to yours, but on a smaller and undoubtedly more achievable scale."

Kiritsugu remained silent for a moment, considering his words.

"As Saber's master, I'm being aided by my wife, Irisviel. So you'll be seeing her on the battlefield from now on instead of me."  
"You shouldn't reveal your strategies to the enemy. Why are you telling me this?"  
"I wanted to know your reason for participating in this war and for you to know mine. If you do engage in combat with Saber, all I ask is that you leave Irisviel unharmed."  
"The man who abandoned me as a child has no say in what I'm supposed to do."

Eritrea got up from the chaise longue and headed for the window, letting her back face Kiritsugu in case she lost the slightest control over her emotions.

"Then again, I suppose I should thank you. If you hadn't left me back then I wouldn't be who I am today. So you'll have my gratitude for that and for saving my life the night before. But we're done here. Lancer, please escort our guest off the premises."  
"Of course, master. This way please, Mr. Kiritsugu."

Eritrea remained where she was. She heard footfalls and the sound of a door closing.

"Master, are you alright?"

She turned around and gave Diarmuid a dazzling smile, one she had practiced and mastered over time.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

After dinner, Eritrea and her servant went out for a walk. Well, a flight would be more appropriate. Diarmuid carried his master and sailed across the metropolis until they landed on one specific building. There, they had an overview of Fuyuki City. The air was cool and the winds were strong.

"Beautiful." breathed Eritrea.  
"It is."

They stood together, just admiring the city before them, no one saying a word. Then Diarmuid broke the silence.

"You wish is to end the Holy Grail War, master?"  
"A bloodbath of this sort should never have been brought into existence."  
He looked at his master and saw her stern expression.  
"What about you, Diarmuid? You never told me what your wish was."  
"I have no temporal desires. My only wish is to serve the master that I have now."  
"Don't you wish to go back to Grainne? And your children?"  
Diarmuid was surprised, then his lips formed a small smile.  
"I never considered going back to the past. But if that were possible, it would be nice."

He observed Eritrea and recalled all the details he had learned about her in their time together. Though only at the young age of sixteen, her soul was a decade beyond that.

Diarmuid recognized the look she had in her eyes. It was one that searched for purpose, for a way to save others. And he admired that.

Deciding to lighten the mood, Diarmuid slid behind Eritrea and gave her a little push. She shrieked and flailed her arms, stepping back as quickly as she could and latching on to anything to regain her stability. Which so happened to be Diarmuid.

He smirked, looking down at the panic-stricken teenager who had her arms around his neck. Meanwhile, Diarmuid had snaked one arm around Eritrea's waist to steady the girl.

In her disarray, he smiled cheekily at the proximity of their bodies and how she clung to him for safety. When Eritrea turned around to face him and realized it was a prank, she smacked him hard on the chest.

"Don't do that! I could have fallen, you idiot!"  
"No and if you did, I would have caught you in an instant."   
"Come on fool, let's go home."  
"As you wish, master." chuckled Diarmuid.  
"I advise you to wipe that smirk off your pretty face before I accidentally ruin it." snapped Eritrea, getting into his arms before they leaped across the rooftops.

Behind the veil of her windblown tresses, a faint smile was hidden in Eritrea's features. She enjoyed being able to jest with Diarmuid.

And not having to be treated like a master all the time.

 


	4. Chapter 4

****

**Chapter Four: Familial Resemblance**  

It was another day in the lives of Eritrea and her servant. The young girl continued slipping in and out of her pensive moods, which often distracted her when she was doing other things. This was one of those times.

Eritrea was hauling a box of old books and toys she had decided to shift to the basement. She took one cautious step after another down the staircase, until her mind began to meander.

At one point, her stride was too long and she lost her footing, landing on a cushion of air instead of marble. Eritrea let out a scream as she toppled down the steps.

Diarmuid, who had been downstairs making breakfast, immediately dashed to her side to catch her. But the momentum and weight only propelled them further down the staircase. The box landed on one side and the duo lay flat on another.

"Master? Are you alright?" asked Diarmuid, too stunned to get up just yet.

She didn't reply. Then when the servant was beginning to worry, Eritrea burst out in laughter, covering her eyes with slim fingers. It was as sad as it was mirthful.

Diarmuid was surprised. How was falling down a marble staircase in any way funny? But then for some reason, he too gave a loud chortle.

When the hysterics died down, Diarmuid heard his master sigh and turned sideways to look at her. Her eyes were fixed upon the ceiling, then she faced him.

"This is a disaster." chuckled Eritrea.  
She reached her hand across the gap to touch his.  
"We're goanna be alright, aren't we?"   
Their fingers interlaced partially and Diarmuid smiled.  
"Yes."

That night, after Eritrea's daily training, Diarmuid and his master went out in search for an opponent. Though Eritrea had initially planned to wait for Lady Olivier's return before making any moves, she also realized that waiting for too long might put them at a disadvantage. After all, their enemies would certainly not be sitting quietly. As they walked by a jetty, Eritrea stopped to look at the ocean. Diarmuid halted in his tracks and did the same.

He noticed that his master, like him, was especially fond of nature. So whenever they were out of the house, taking in the scenery was a habit. A palpable surge of energy caused Diarmuid to grip his master's arm. She didn't flinch.

"An enemy?"  
"Yes, making known its presence eight hundred meters from here. It wishes to engage in battle."  
"How kind of them. Shall we take up their offer?" she smiled.

Lancer nodded before swiftly picking her up and leaping towards their destination.

Not long after, Diarmuid set his master down on the gravel. It appears their enemy had lured them to a fairly secluded location. A figure emerged from the shadows of a docking container.

"We meet once again on the battlefield, servant Lancer."  
"Saber. It is an honor to exchange blows with a knight of your bearing."  
"The honor is mine. Now then," she drew her sword. "Shall we begin?"

What followed was a skillful match of two renowned warriors. Within an hour, Lancer had managed to sever the tendon in Saber's dominant arm while receiving a scratch to his face and a cut at his stomach. They encircled one another, considering their next course of action. Eritrea took this time to ask.

"Servant Saber, if you were to die at the hands of Lancer, would you be satisfied?"  
"A good death is its own reward."  
Eritrea lowered her head.   
"So be it. Lancer, you are permitted to use your Noble Phantasm."  
"Thank you, master. I shall not fail."  
Then the two knights resumed their battle.

When the dual had ended, it had ended honorably, and Saber faded away with a smile on her face. The Lady Irisviel fell on her knees. Eritrea made her way towards the homunculus.

Irisviel, wrought with grief, didn't bother to get up. If she was to die here, at least her demise would be at the hands of a dignified master. Elsewhere, Maiya pointed her sniper rifle at Eritrea. Kiritsugu stopped her.

"No."   
"But Madam-"   
"I know her, she won't harm Iri."

Eritrea halted in front of Irisviel, her tall figure looming over the weeping lady. She got down on her knees and held her close. While Irisviel mourned the loss of her servant, Eritrea comforted her, her own tears falling to the ground.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

From above, Kiritsugu smiled in relief. He was right. The pair made their way down from the rooftop and fetched the vehicle they arrived with. In the meantime, Eritrea helped Irisviel up to her feet. The homunculus smiled at her.

"Thank you, for giving Saber an honorable dual. And for sparing me. Thank you."   
"You needn't thank me, I do not wish for unnecessary bloodshed."

Seeing Kiritsugu and another lady approaching them, Eritrea handed her over to them. Maiya led Irisviel back to the car while Kiritsugu remained to speak with his niece.

"Thank you, for not hurting Iri."  
"I didn't spare her for your sake. I did it because it was right."

Irisviel looked over her shoulder, she had heard everything. Given more time, Kiritsugu might've said something back, but Eritrea certainly wasn't going to wait for that. 

"Lancer."  
"Yes, master?"  
"Let's go."

Eritrea turned around and walked towards her servant. After dematerializing his two spears, Diarmuid picked up his master and sped off into the night.

Kiritsugu walked back to the vehicle and got in. In the rear view mirror, he saw his wife with a pensive expression on her face. He would definitely have questions to answer when they got home.

The trio entered one of the rooms which before the death of Saber, had been utilized as a place to hold war counsels, so to speak. Maiya stood with a rigid posture at Kiritsugu's side, awaiting further instructions. He spoke firmly.

"Maiya, you are dismissed for the night, thank you."

With a nod, she left the room. After a few moments of silence, Irisviel finally voiced her thoughts.

"Anata, that girl you were speaking with, Lancer's master, she's your niece, is she not?"  
"Yes." replied Kiritsugu, his eyes downcast.  
"You know, she's so much like you. When she said that she didn't hurt me because it wasn't right. She doesn't want to cause needless pain. It reminds me of what you strive for in this war."

Kiritsugu didn't answer. Irisviel mustered the courage to ask.

"Why did you not raise her? You told me her parents died when she was still a young girl, didn't you?"  
"When her mother and father died and she was left alone with no family, I was here making preparations for the coming war."  
"But _you_ are her family, how could you abandon her?"

Kiritsugu stood by the window, his back towards his wife as he gazed upon the white roses in the courtyard. Irisviel thought that she had overstepped her bounds and stared at her palms in silence.

"Iri."  
She looked up.  
"You know me. I chose the needs of the many over the needs of the few."

Irisviel never broached the subject again.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

****

**Chapter Five: Intimacy**

Halfway towards the door step, Diarmuid winced.

"Lancer, are you alright?"  
"Nothing to worry about, master." the servant replied, smiling courageously.   
Having said that however, Diarmuid almost dropped Eritrea with the next step he took.

"Put me down now."

Lancer complied. She looked at his injury which until then, had been concealed by the cover of darkness and her servant's unwillingness to voice its severity.

"You're hurt, not terribly so but you're completely spent from that battle. Come, I'll hold you."

After fumbling with the keys, Eritrea managed to open the door while balancing her injured servant. He leaned against the doorframe, taking a breather before ascending the stairs to the nearest room, Eritrea's. After nursing his wounds and cleaning up, Eritrea went to the bathroom to shower and change her clothing.

Diarmuid was too focused with his responsibilities and the earlier conversation between Eritrea and her Kiritsugu to bother materializing a T-shirt. Instead, he stood guard in the corner, the moonlight shining on the bandages wrapped around his upper body.

When Eritrea stepped out of the shower, she gazed at the reflection in her bathroom mirror, boring holes into the glass.

_He's weak. At this rate, I might have to conduct the_ _mana_ _restoration ritual. Ha. Well, if I'm going to be intimate, at least it'll be with a good man._

She opened the tap and splashed some cold water on her face. When she entered the room again, she was dressed in black lingerie, with her hair let down. Diarmuid kept his gaze respectably focused on her eyes. Eritrea got under the covers, settling herself. Then she sat upright, mulling something over before she spoke.

"Diarmuid." finally addressing him by his actual name. "If it's not too much trouble, could you hold me while I sleep tonight? You needn't do so if it makes you uncomfortable."

One hand pressed the blanket to her chest, the other strayed to the side. Diarmuid was hesitant, wouldn't this action be disrespectful towards his master? However his duty was not only to ensure her safety, but to make sure she _felt_ safe. And if this was his best way in achieving those objectives, he would do so without a second thought.

Diarmuid walked towards her, gently taking the hand that strayed into his palm. He slipped under the covers and got on his side, facing his master. Eritrea gave him a small appreciative smile, then with her hands wrapped behind his neck and one leg draped across his, she fell asleep.

_I can't. I can't. I'm not ready for this._

Eritrea woke in the middle of the night and sat up, her back facing her servant. Though Diarmuid had been asleep, the servant was no less vigilant than when he was awake. 

"Master, is something the matter?"

She didn't speak for some time, contemplating how to word her response.

"Diarmuid, could you..." her sentence trailed, unfinished. Disgruntled, Eritrea shook her head. "Never mind. I wasn't thinking clearly."

Diarmuid's response was action over words, wrapping his strong arms around her abdomen.con Then he planted slow, gentle kisses from the bottom left of her back, working his way upwards in a diagonal direction.

He performed his task with the utmost care, every press of his lips an endeavor to ease the fear this war had inflicted upon his master, pleading with her to entrust their safety and victory to him.

He ended with one last kiss on her right shoulder. The tension her arms had melted. Diarmuid rested his head at the nape of her neck, breathing deeply as he found comfort in the scent of her skin.

Eritrea turned around to face him, taking his face into both hands.

"Thank you."

She raised herself a little higher to kiss his forehead. Diarmuid closed his eyes, trying to prolong the moment. Then her gaze became level with his.

"Let's go back to sleep."

This time, they both slept soundly in each other's embrace, oblivious to the ethereal energy enveloping them.

Due to a habit of getting up early that she had cultivated since young, Eritrea awoke at six forty-five the next morning. She carefully got out of bed, trying not to wake Diarmuid, then turned to look at the figure who lay sound asleep in the dark. Eritrea bent low on her haunches, balancing easily on the balls of her feet.

Seeing that her servant was resting well, she smiled and brushed aside the lock of hair that always fell in front of him.

_I've never seen him so relaxed. As if the cares of the world do not exist in his dreams._

Eritrea left the room without making a sound. She picked up a book from the coffee table and disappeared behind the counter to brew a drink. The minutes ticked by as Eritrea continued reading in the half light of dawn with a mug of tea in her hand.

Not long after, a deep voice resonated from the shadows. Generally, having her early morning silence disrupted would tick Eritrea off. But Diarmuid's whispers melded with the stillness, as tranquil and reassuring as the coming of a new day.

"Master, you didn't wake me."   
Having sensed her servant's presence seconds ago, she wasn't startled.   
"You needed the rest, are you feeling better now?"   
"Yes. Thank you, Master."   
She gave a prompt smile before turning her attention back to the book. "Alright then."

"Master, if I may, what are you doing at such an early hour?"   
"I just wanted a moment of quiet to myself."  
"Well... Master... You may have forgotten to put on some clothes before you left your room..."   
"Please. I did not spend hundreds of dollars on this to have it covered up by a t-shirt. I will walk around the house all day in this if I wish, if only to get my money's worth."   
He smiled and murmured to himself. "That's perfectly fine with me."   
"What was that?"   
"Um, nothing, master. I think it suits you very well."   
"Thank you, Diarmuid. I'll make breakfast for us both in an hour."   
"May I sit with you until then?"  
"Please."

After a while, Eritrea spoke, "Diarmuid. Thank you for last night, I appreciate what you did for me. But you should know that it was purely platonic, nothing more."  
"Of course, master. But why did you want company last night? I thought you preferred being alone."  
"I still do. I just... wanted to hold on to someone other than myself for once."

Diarmuid still had questions but thought better of asking them. So he simply chose to observe Eritrea with inconspicuous glances instead. He didn't tell her that he had heard her thoughts before she left the room earlier or that he felt a certain tenderness in her touch when she brushed his hair aside, one that didn't seem quite so platonic.

Half an hour later, she looked up from the pages of her book, an inquisitive frown on her brows. Diarmuid knew that expression all too well. It meant a thought that bore more significance than others had arisen when she was lost in her own world.

Eritrea turned to face him, a slight smile on her lips as she raised her hand and brushed aside the errant strands of hair in front of him. Not understanding her actions, Diarmuid inquired.

"Master, is there something wrong with my hair?"  
"Not at all. I've just always wondered, doesn't it get in the way of your vision during combat? Or even when you go about your daily activities?"  
"For some reason it does not hinder me. Does it displease you, Master?"  
"No, I like it. But sometimes it makes me think that there is a great amount of grief you carry inside, a sadness kept hidden from the world. Other times I think it hides too much of your handsome face. But I like it. It suits you."

At her last words, Eritrea's hand had strayed to his jawline, holding it with uncharacteristic gentleness. Having mused her thoughts, she went back to the book, retracting her palm and closing her mind off from her surroundings.

Diarmuid didn't know what else to do but smile in amazement and appreciation at her candor.

After breakfast, Eritrea sat her servant at the edge of the bed to change the bandages on his wounds. When she took off the old bandages, she was shocked to find that the injuries had completely healed.

"How can this be?"   
"I don't know... Wait, Diarmuid, how are your mana levels at the moment?"  
"Now that I think about it, they feel sufficient. More than sufficient, in fact."

Eritrea's mind flickered back to the previous night.

_Did I unknowingly perform the_ _mana_ _restoration process? But there was no intercourse. Intimate... Intimacy! I remember now. I remember feeling some sort of energy just before we both fell asleep._

"It seems we accidentally performed the mana restoration ritual."  
"But master, that's impossible. We did not engage in love-making."  
"Yes but from what I've read, the purpose of love-making as a form of restoration is to create a bond between master and servant on a deeper level. That being said, intercourse is not the requirement here, intimacy is."  
"Does that mean that last night we were intimate without having to make love?"  
"Exactly."

The pair sat in silence, allowing the information to settle. Then Eritrea leaped off the bed and spun in circles.

"I did it! I can't believe this, I did it! Well, we did it technically. But we replenished your mana without me having to lose my virginity! Sixteen and pregnant? Not today, mate. Not today, haha. Thank You, Jesus, thank You!"   
She looked out the windows and whispered excitedly.  
"We should celebrate."

Diarmuid took no offense at her words because he understood that Eritrea would never want to make love to a man she did not intend to marry.

"How shall we celebrate, master?" he smiled.  
"Let's go skateboarding at sunset, by the pier."

Eritrea slid down the path on her skateboard. One hand reached out to the side as she looked at the sunset, pretending her fingers were gliding across the burnished sky.

Diarmuid stood a few feet ahead, awaiting his opportunity. Then he lifted her off with both arms, spinning her in circles after his right foot stopped the board from moving.

The pair laughed joyously as they whirled about in the evening light. When he settled her on the ground, they were inches apart. In all that time, Diarmuid had unconsciously curled his fingers around her wrist. Lost in their proximity, the servant began leaning in. Before their lips could touch, Eritrea turned her gaze towards the setting sun.

"You know, people always assume I'm eighteen or even twenty because of how I comport myself. And I like the image and personal standards I've set because of that assumption. But sometimes, it's nice to just be sixteen for a while."

Diarmuid smiled fondly at his master and picked up the board.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm.

Eritrea smiled back, taking his arm in hers and making their way home. Diarmuid sneaked a few glances at his master while he thought about the kiss that _almost_ happened.

_You never get carried away in a moment, do you?_

Unfortunately, this euphoria they shared was brief and would not be theirs to keep. After all, life often appears its best before things take a turn for the worse.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

****

**Chapter Six: Love and Lost**

A blonde female stumbled through the manor's double doors and fell onto the wooden floors.

_Get up. Come on, get up. You need to destroy all the evidence, anything that could lead to Eritrea. Don't let him get her too._

Lady Olivier staggered to the basement. Upon returning, she lugged a hefty container of gasoline and pushed it over, its greasy contents spilling onto the floorboards. Rummaging through a drawer, she found what she needed.

_I have a moment, might as well say one last prayer. Should I leave her a letter?_ _Nah_ _, too much like those cliché movies. She knows I love her, I don't have to put it in writing._

When Lady Olivier opened her eyes, she glanced at the purple mark on her stomach. She lurched forward and pushed open the doors.

"To think that it would ever end like this." she chuckled, looking at the sky. "Be strong, Eritrea. Finish what you started."

Then she struck a match and tossed it aside.

**Meanwhile.**   
_It's been a month and a half since Sensei left_ _Fuyuki_ _and three weeks since I called her. She should have completed her task by now. Unless something happe-_

"Master?" asked Lancer, breaking her train of thought.  
"Diarmuid, we need to make a trip to Karakura Town."  
"What for, master?"  
"I need to see my Sensei."

Karakura Town was a little far off from Fuyuki City, but not so much as to make coming and going an arduous journey. During her year in training, Eritrea had moved there to live, train and study, leaving her mansion in the hands of Pastor Alex Louis Armstrong. And no, the cleric and her Sensei were not related. Though it wouldn't have been out of place if they were.

When her training had finished, she returned to Fuyuki but did not continue her studies. Though her birthplace was here, Karakura had always felt more like home ever since the death of her parents. Under an hour, the pair arrived at their destination. Making their way out of an alley, Eritrea spoke.

"The residence is further up north, situated on a mountain. It looks like a temple but it's really the exact opposite."

Eritrea remembered the days that Lady Olivier studied biblical passages with her. She had been strengthened in her body, mind and soul.

 _"You are afraid, afraid to fail."_  
The acolyte's eyes were crestfallen. Lady Olivier place her hand on Eritrea's shoulder.  
 _"You must trust Him. Have faith in the One who died for you."_

The teenager woke from her memories and spoke again.

"Just around this wide bend and we'll be there. Another ten minutes."

Before they arrived, Eritrea smelled ash and heard the crackle of fire. Instantly, she ran up the path.

It was one thing to envision a nightmare and another to experience it yourself. The entire manor was engulfed in flames, as if Hell itself had rained down upon the gargantuan structure.

"SENSEI!!!"   
"Master, wait!"

Eritrea shoved Diarmuid aside and ran headlong into the manor. There she found her beloved teacher in the middle of the foyer with a knife in her hand.

"WAIT!"

Lady Olivier glanced at her student, sadness in her smile, before lodging the blade deep into her abdomen. When Eritrea caught her Sensei, she noticed a dark patch was spreading across the surface where her teacher had stabbed herself.

"I-I don't understand..." stammered the girl, tears falling freely.  
"I had no choice, child. Forgive me..."  
"Who did this?!"  
"Remember everything I taught you, Eritrea. The path is already laid before your feet, you cannot falter now."

Lady Olivier smiled once more before her eyes started to close.

"No... No..." muttered Eritrea, feeling all control slip away from her.  
"Master, we must leave at once." exclaimed Lancer.  
"No... I ca-I can save her. I can save her, Diarmuid..."

A flaming wooden beam fell from above and nearly decapitated Eritrea. Lancer took her into his arms and sped off. The young girl reached out one hand to her teacher.

"SENSEI!"

Eritrea pushed and kicked but her struggle was in vain. All she could do was cry as her servant leapt from one building to another, carrying them back to Fuyuki.

It was a dark and starless night when they reached the gates of Eritrea's mansion.

"Put me down."  
Diarmuid gently set her down on the gravel.   
"She's gone..."

Diarmuid hesistated at first, but then he rested one hand on her shoulder.

"I understand that you're in pain, master but you should get inside and rest firs-"  
"No, you don't understand! I loved her and now she's gone! You... you defied me. You took me away before I could save her!"

She started hitting Diarmuid on the chest, but wrecked with guilt and grief, her hits did nothing to wound him. He _did_  understand. In the time they had spent together, Eritrea had told him about the death of her parents and how Pastor Alex was like a second father and Lady Olivier, a second mother.

"I do understand. I myself have endured loss."

Eritrea stopped hitting her servant. If she could not hurt him with her strength, she would cut him with her words.

"How could you have experienced that when you don't even know what love is? You died trying to protect and care for a woman who probably never loved you! And you're telling me that you understand what loss is?"

"She did love me." Diarmuid said, quietly. "We were happy together."  
"She only loved you because of that mark! You have never known what true love is!"

Eritrea felt a pang of regret when she spoke those words, but her judgement was far too impaired to realize her mistake.

"You're right. Of course, master. Grainne did not love me for who I was, _that_ I understood. But I loved her for the both of us. I believed that would be enough. I gave up my life for false love, that is the tragic tale of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne."  
"Diarmuid..."  
"Master, I shall remain incorporeal until you summon me."  
"Wait, Diarmuid-"

But Lancer had already dematerialized, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake and his master alone in the dark. Eritrea made her way into the house and up the staircase to her room.

When Eritrea reached the doors, she stumbled. One hand balanced her weight against the wall while the other attempted to stifle her sobs. Tears ran down her face and her knees buckled.

Though Diarmuid was deeply wounded by his master's words, he knew that she had only spoken out of anger. And he couldn't bear to see the person he vowed to protect in such distress.

Sighing, he materialized behind Eritrea and wrapped his arms around her. Exhausted and devastated, Eritrea made a feeble attempt at pushing him away as she cried.

"No, you can't. I don't deserve your comfort. Not after what I said."  
"You were not yourself. It's alright. I'm here."

So Eritrea stayed in his embrace the entire night, and Diarmuid held her close, protecting her from pain and sorrow.

Hours later, Eritrea awoke in her servant's arms. She gazed at his sleeping figure and raised her hand to stroke his cheek. He stirred and opened his eyes.

"Diarmuid... I'm sorry for the things I said before. Truly."  
"Think nothing of it, master. I forgive you."  
"Thank you. I'm going out for a walk, I need time alone with my thoughts. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. Just take care of the house."  
"As you wish, master."

Twenty minutes later, Eritrea was wandering the bustling streets of Fuyuki. At one point, a crowd descended from a bus and she was caught right in the middle of it. During all the pushing and pulling, someone grabbed Eritrea's hand and place something in her fingers.

When the crowd subsided, she looked down at her palm and saw a small envelope. Eritrea scanned the area around her but saw no one particularly dubious.

She opened the envelope, then her pupils dilated and she sprinted down the sidewalk.

It was a picture of her Sensei strapped to a chair, bleeding from several different places. A dark purple mark at her abdomen was also visible, the same mark she saw when her Sensei breathed her last. An address was scrawled with dried blood on the back.

 _An abandoned building? How cliché._ thought Eritrea, whose mind was capable of joking at the most serious and inappropriate of times. She was angry, surely. But Eritrea had been taught to remain level-headed and focused in dangerous situations.

Eritrea walked in, expecting to see someone foreboding but instead she found a ginger teenager dressed in purple, standing in the middle of the desolate building as though this were a casual meetup.

"Did you like my letter?"  
"Who are you?"  
"Ryuunosuke Uryuu, yoroshiku." answered the teen with a loopy smile.  
"What is your connection to Olivier Mira Armstrong? Why did you target her?"  
"You talking about the blonde lady? I don't know her name, all I know was that she was really fun to experiment with."  
"Would you happen to be the cause of those disappearing children?"  
"Why, yes! Glad to see that someone recognizes my work! Very flattered."  
"So what am I here for? A private tour?"  
"Actually I was hoping you'd be my new specimen. See, my friend tells me that your spiritual energy is very unusual so we'd like to know a little more about that."  
"Why don't you ask me again, see if you don't lose a limb or two."  
"Is that a yes?"

Eritrea ran forward, hitting vital organ spots, cracking a few ribs and breaking his jaw. The uncoordinated teen didn't stand a chance. In seconds, he was down on the ground, gasping for breath and spitting blood on the pavement. She gave him a pitiful glance before knocking him out.

"You're goanna spend a long time away from humanity, kid."

Eritrea was about to haul the ginger over her shoulder and head towards the police station when a shrill voice cried out.

"Ryuunosuke! Ryuunosuke, where are you?!"

Eritrea drew her blades, preparing herself for combat. A round figured man with protruding eyes and purple medieval garb emerged from a dark corner.

_Exophthalmic_ _goitre meets renaissance fair? What the hell is going on?_

"Master..." said the man when his eyes landed on the boy.

_Master? Oh shi-_

"I told him not to go by himself. You've injured my master. If your spiritual energy wasn't so exceptional I'd have killed you right here."  
"Master? So, you're into _that_ sort of thing, huh?"

Eritrea was stalling, she knew from his occult appearance and manner of speaking that this was another participant of the Holy Grail War. She inched closer to the door behind her. If her assumptions were right, and this was indeed a servant, then she was as good as dead. Swords would be of no use here, the only option was to escape.

"Don't bother." said the servant, a book in his hand.

He murmured an incantation and a dozen monsters appeared around Eritrea. She sliced through them with practiced accuracy but no matter how forcefully she cut them down, their wounds healed immediately and they continued squirming about her.

 _Instantaneous regeneration?_ _In that case._..

Eritrea jumped as high as she could, somersaulting in mid-air to propel herself further backwards. But it was during the twist that a squirming appendage lunged upwards and grabbed her leg, bringing her down and slamming her onto the concrete. She spat out blood and heard a crack.

_Third and fourth rib._

Upside down, Eritrea saw the figure approaching her.

_I'm glad I got the chance to apologize. Goodbye,_ _Diarmuid_ _. Father, Sensei, I'm sorry._

Then her vision faded to darkness.

**Author's Note: '** **Yoroshiku** **' means it's a pleasure to meet you.**   
**'** **Masaka** **' means impossible.**   
**'Matte' means wait.**

**The conversation between Diarmuid and Eritrea where the latter said he could not understand true love because he died for someone who didn't truly love him was an idea credited to a story on Fanfiction.net called 'The Finest One' by sinemoras09. Do check it out!  
**

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

****

**Chapter Seven: A Miracle**

_I wonder where she's gone. It's been half an hour already._

Diarmuid was busying himself with the preparation of lunch, awaiting his master's return. All at once, he felt a burst of invisible energy. The same feeling Eritrea had the night she met Diarmuid. He dropped the knife and ran out the door.

The afternoon sun and noise of the city inundated his senses. Some ladies were also starting to look his way. Diarmuid turned in circles frantically. How was he going to find his master when she hadn't left a clue as to where she'd gone? He closed his eyes and shut off the world from his mind.

_Focus. You recognize her energy, and it will guide you. You need only concentrate._

In the dark, he envisioned Eritrea's aura. Diarmuid allowed the presence to solidify in his thoughts, then he snapped open his eyes and ran down the street. His breathing was heavy and his heart pounded with fear. 

Twenty minutes later, Eritrea's spiritual aura led him to a massive irrigation pipe. Diarmuid steeled his nerves and materializing his battle regalia and spears, ran swiftly into the shadows.

In the deeper recesses of Caster's hideout, the servant held up his arm.

"Wait, Ryuunosuke! A moment. I sense a disturbance in the air. Hmm..." the servant smiled. "And just a hint of killing intent." 

Diarmuid sprang forth from his hiding place, aiming directly for Caster. He would have killed his master first to maximize the damage, but Eritrea was against eliminating anyone other than the servants, if possible.

He lodged his red spear into Caster's side before a tentacle slammed him into the curved walls. Caster screamed in pain but even a wound like that would not kill the likes of him. Diarmuid got up, ready to attack again.

"I'd put down those big spears if I were you, buddy."

Diarmuid's gaze drifted to the voice and he saw the teenager with a switchblade positioned at Eritrea's neck. His eyes filled with dread at the sight of his master.

Eritrea lay still atop a stone surface, the life drained from her eyes. Her hair was a tangled mess, and blood streamed from several places where fresh cuts had been made.

She looked at Diarmuid, one arm reaching out towards him. A single tear fell from her eye as she cried out in desperation.

"Nigero."

Diarmuid checked his emotions and willed himself to focus.

"What do you want with her?!"  
"Your master has very abnormal and powerful spiritual energy. I was merely leeching it from her to transfer to my master." replied Caster.  
"And together we will paint the world a new shade of red. Starting with Fuyuki City this time!" continued the teenager.

_This time?_

"We were almost complete, until you interrupted us." said Caster.

The boy was now jumping about gleefully. Diarmuid dashed towards the distracted adolescent, knocking him out before he grabbed his master.

"Unforgivable! Unforgivable!" Caster shrieked, his frame shaking. "How dare you hurt my precious master! I will disembowel you alive and mount you on the walls!"

Caster summoned a demonic legion, all the while cackling ominously to himself.

"Yes... Squirm in fear! My monsters will eat you alive and I will relish the sounds of your terrified screams. You will die here, with no one to find your corpses or mourn your absence."

They _were_ going to die here. Eritrea's mind could not grasp reality at the moment. With her hazy vision, all she could discern was the faint silhouette of her servant, courageously battling the monsters and keeping them at bay.

Just when all hope was lost and Eritrea nearly plunged into despairing darkness once more, a bright light shone and the sound of what seemed like a thousand hooves came crashing in.

Diarmuid could not believe his eyes, it was the servant Rider on a chariot drawn by two bulls. The creatures trampled Caster's monsters like they were ants beneath a boot.

"Servant Lancer, you have fought well to protect your master. Shall we put an end to Caster's atrocities together so you can bring her to safety?"  
"I am indebted to you, servant Rider." replied Diarmuid, still stunned by the sheer size of Rider's muscles and the fact that he even was here in the first place. But more of the latter.   
"It's nothing, I enjoy watching the flowers of a battlefield in bloom. Now, let's finish him!" boomed the giant man.

Diarmuid delivered the final blow, impaling Caster. He screeched and clawed at the air before laying still. Rider's master popped out from inside the chariot he had been hiding in until then.

"She's badly wounded. Step aside, I have to heal her."  
"You must be Rider's master. Thank you, you saved our lives." said Diarmuid.  
"Waver Velvet, pleasure to meet you." said the boy brusquely, moving past Diarmuid and kneeling at Eritrea's side.

As he stabilized her, Waver spoke, "Rider, bring the teenage boy, We'll hand him over to the police later."

Just then, Caster's figure twitched and he let out a piercing cry. Tentacles protruded from his wounds and his features became more maniacal than they were before. He shrieked and it sounded like fingernails against a chalkboard.

"You think I'm finished? You think such weak opponents could ever defeat Gilles de Rais?"

Waver shot a fire spell, missing terribly. His aim was never very good. Instead the spell ignited a flame over one of the numerous murky puddles in Caster's lair.

Caster directed a scream at the boy and reached for him, only to be tossed aside by Rider's massive arms. Waver continued healing Eritrea, but the girl got up and approached another stone surface.

"Wait! You're not fully stabilized yet!"  
"Thank you, but that will have to wait."

Eritrea reached for her two katana swords.

"Hold this." said Eritrea to Waver, handing him one of her swords as she didn't yet have the strength to wield both. Then she made her way towards Caster.

_The viscous substance is flammable, so it would seem._

Eritrea drew her katana and dipped it into the inky pool. She raised the flaming sword and cut a path across the musty air before pointing the tip at Caster. The fire enveloping her blade magnified the one that was burning in her eyes.

"Kakugo wa ii na, gedo."

**Author's Note: '** **Nigero** **' means run and '** **Kakugo** **wa** **ii** **na** **,** **gedo** **' means 'prepare to die, monster.' But the translation for the latter may be inaccurate so forgive me for that!**

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

****

**Chapter Eight: More Than Allies**

Diarmuid was currently looking after Eritrea. She had pushed her limits far too much in the fight. Looking at her sleeping face, he recalled the scene that unfolded before him.

Diarmuid and Rider had created an entry for Eritrea to strike Caster. She charged forward, ready to deal the actual final blow.

"Fool! No man can kill me!" shouted Caster.

Eritrea cut down the tentacles that lurched for her and thrust the flaming sword through his head.

 _If you want to make sure he's dead this time, go for the brain._ thought Eritrea, pushing her sword out the back of his skull.

The fire permeated from the blade to his body. She pulled out the katana and allowed the flames to do the rest. As his corpse burned to ash she said.

"I am no man."

Her knees buckled and Diarmuid caught her before she fell.

"You did well, master. Rest now, we'll take care of everything else."  
"Clean my swords for me, will ya?" she laughed before drifting off to sleep.

Waver spoke with urgency in his voice.  
"She's weakening, we must hurry."

Before leaving the lair, Rider hauled Ryuunosuke into his chariot while Waver cast a stronger fire spell, burning the eviscerated corpses and destroying the atrocities Caster had executed there. Upon reaching Waver's residence, Eritrea was taken into his room for restoration.

An hour later, her vitals stabilized and Waver had instructed Diarmuid to watch over her while she recuperated. The Lancer class servant was seated on a chair at his master's bedside, pondering the situation they had just encountered.

_I have never seen that fire in someone's eyes before. My master is truly something._

Diarmuid smiled to himself, then his brows knotted in anger.

_This was my fault, I should never have allowed her to leave on her own._

The servant was furious with his actions. He had placed Eritrea's emotional needs over her safety and it cost them dearly. Clenching his fists, he promised never to repeat that mistake. The doorknob twisted and in came Waver along with Rider.

"How is she?" asked the teenage boy.  
"Better, she seems to be resting well."   
"She's a brave fighter, this one." grinned Rider.

Diarmuid glanced at Eritrea, a small smile in his eyes.

_I agree._

Then he redirected his attention to Waver.

"That boy you brought along, where is he now?"  
"Rider and I just got back from the police station. They found his identification card on him and conducted a search on his apartment, which contained sufficient evidence to prove him liable for most, if not all of the missing children cases reported recently. They're holding him in custody now."  
"Custody?" said Diarmuid, quirking an eyebrow.  
"Prison."

The three gentlemen heard groaning behind them and saw that Eritrea had woken from her sleep.

"My apologies, master. Did we wake you?"  
"No, it's alright, Lancer. I owe you all an explanation anyway."

Rider grabbed two additional chairs for Waver and himself.

"First and foremost, thank you, both of you, for arriving in the nick of time and saving us. I'm Eritrea Yunani." said the girl, extending her hand.  
"Waver Velvet, a pleasure. And this is my servant, Rider." replied the boy, giving a firm handshake.  
"Now, what would you like to know first?"  
"Why wasn't your servant with you when you were out and about?"  
"I personally instructed Lancer to stay behind and take care of my home because I needed time to myself. I had just lost someone incredibly dear to me."  
"I see. Do you know the reason for your capture?"

Eritrea nodded, her mind flashing back to the ordeal she endured in Caster's hideout.

"Why did you experiment with Lady Olivier?!" shouted Eritrea, strapped to a chair.  
"It was pure coincidence that we stumbled upon her. We were roaming Fuyuki, searching for stronger sources of spiritual energy." answered Caster.

_Fuyuki_ _. So she was already back when they took her._

"We captured her and I inserted one of my monsters into her body, you may have noticed a purplish mark spreading somewhere at her stomach, yes?"

Eritrea was seething with rage but she held her tongue. Caster grinned at her distress before resuming his explanation.

"Once the monster fully inhibited her body she would then go about Karakura Town, absorbing all and any types of spiritual energy. I'd simply have to extract them from her later. Since Karakura Town is relatively smaller than Fuyuki, my master and I decided we would lay claim to the civilization there before consuming the one here."  
"You mean you have no interest in the Holy Grail?"  
"We couldn't care less! All we want is to go on an endless spree of killing and experimenting!" chimed Ryuunosuke.  
"How did you manage to find me? Surely, coincidence isn't always in your favor."  
"The blonde woman had spiritual energy similar to yours. I absorbed and transferred it to my master before inserting the monster. Having done so, I recognized the scent and aura it gave off. I traced it to the manor in Karakura where your Sensei escaped to. When I saw that you were headed for Fuyuki, all I had to do was follow you and wait for the opportune moment."

Hearing all this appalled Eritrea. If Diarmuid hadn't taken her away immediately, they would have had more problems to deal with than just a burning mansion. Yet she had been so harsh and ungrateful towards him. 

"Such a pity. She was almost completely evolved. But never mind, I have you. Master, could you kindly move the specimen to the stone surface?"  
"Of course, big guy!"

Eritrea relayed that entire incident to Waver, Rider and Diarmuid. 

"When Lancer came for me, it was the moment before Caster inserted the monster into my body. We really did cut it close."  
"When you were in peril, before being captured, why didn't you call out to your servant using the telepathic connection?" asked Waver.  
"I'm afraid I can only do that sporadically or if I sit still and close my eyes. Throughout that entire horrific experience, I had no such luxury."  
"Hmm, I see. Then we'll have to work on your concentration skills. Wouldn't want you incapable of contacting your servant in times of need, would we?" smiled Waver.  
"Thank you. But why are you doing this? You yourself are a participant in this war, shouldn't you be plotting against the enemy instead of helping us?"  
"I'll win this war without resorting to despicable measures. It's something my servant has taught me." Waver said, glancing up at the enormous man beside him. Rider spoke with his throaty voice.

"To win, but not destroy. To subjugate, but not humiliate. That, is true conquest."

Eritrea smiled. She had found worthy friends and opponents in this war.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

****

**Chapter Nine: The Final Command**

Eritrea and Waver, along with their servants, were having a late lunch with Glen and Martha Mackenzie.

"So when will you have to go back, dearie?" asked Martha.  
"I'm afraid Lancer and I must take our leave after lunch, Mrs. Mackenzie."  
"Oh, that's a real shame, especially since you and Waver have become such good friends." said Glen.  
"We're sorry to go, but we had a wonderful stay here. Thank you both so much for your hospitality."

Eritrea had spent a couple weeks at the Mackenzie's. During the course of that time, she and Waver had become fast friends, both harboring a good rapport and sense of respect for one another.

After a proper recovery, Waver taught her how to focus her mind and to synchronize with Lancer's telepathic wavelength. In no time at all, she had learned to do so at the drop of a hat.

"So... Like yoga, right? Just calm down, concentrate and it comes to you?"  
"Just like that." replied Waver.

Eritrea was smiling fondly at the memory as she walked next to the British teen, exiting the gates of the house. A beautiful setting sun had scattered its rays onto the residence. Rider and Waver stood at the entrance while Eritrea beamed at the pair.

"We'll see you around!"  
"And when we do, Lancer and I shall engage in honorable combat!" bellowed Rider.

Eritrea chuckled, _of course you will._  
Then she got into Diarmuid's arms and they made their way back home.

 _See you around._ smiled Waver as he watched his friends leaping away into the sunset.

Thirty minutes later, they were back at Eritrea's mansion.

"I never thought I'd be so relieved to come home again." laughed the teenage girl as she alighted from her servant's arms. "Wait for me here. Just going to fetch my knives."

Diarmuid smiled, watching his master as she strode through the doors. When she returned, Eritrea stood face to face with her servant.

"My swords, please. We're going to visit my uncle. He has no part left to play in this war but I need his skills and tactics if I'm to defeat Assassin."  
"As you wish, master."

After tucking the katanas at her sides, Eritrea raised one hand to Diarmuid's cheek.

"Now that's we're back in the game, every step out the door becomes a dance with death itself, we never know when we'll be up to our necks in battle. Next time, we might not be so lucky."

Diarmuid nodded and she continued.

"Your fealty shall be mine, and my fate shall be yours. Now go forth and do battle, my knight. Return victorious. Or do not return at all."

The soft, amber sky had transitioned to bolder and more striking hues. A vivid sea of flames which burned as fiercely as Eritrea's tenacity.

Diarmuid smiled and so did she. He knew that this was the time to show his master the magnitude of his strength. When the moment passed, they headed towards the Einzbern castle.

By the time Diarmuid landed in the centre of the castle's courtyard, day had turned to night and a crescent moon was out. The enclosure was filled with white roses that glimmered under the moonlight.

Eritrea allowed herself a little while to appreciate its beauty. Then she reached surreptitiously into the folds of her sleeves and turned around, flinging poisoned knives at a shadow. Two of them found their mark and one missed by a hair's breadth.

"Ara... It's not polite to attack a person you don't even know."  
"Servant Assassin. You sought out trouble when you decided to follow us. I was merely initiating the battle."  
"Your aim does you justice, but the poison from these blades will only dull my senses. You'll have to do a bit better, girl."

Multiple assassins with varying form and figure manifested in the courtyard, surrounding them. Lancer wielded his spears and Eritrea drew her swords.

They stood back to back, one of their hands reaching behind to graze the other's for the assurance that each was not alone in this fight. Then they sped forward and commenced the battle.

Elsewhere, Irisviel's senses were ringing like a thousand alarm bells.

"Anata, your niece. She's in danger. It's coming from the castle."

Kiritsugu grabbed his artillery. Just before leaving the room, he spoke in grave tones.

"Maiya, look after Iri. I'll be back."

Diarmuid had already finished five of the assassins while Eritrea managed to eliminate two. Even a servant who did not specialize in brute strength was a formidable opponent. The assassin who was partially injured by the first blades Eritrea threw decided to join the fray.

"Care to finish this, missy?"  
"I didn't come here for chit-chat." she smirked.

A clear shot rang out from above. Eritrea turned to see that one of the assassins had a hole right between his eyes. Diarmuid spared a glance at the rooftops.

"Kiritsugu." he breathed.

One by one, the assassins went down with rapid succession due to the presence of the newcomer.

"We were looking for you. How did you find us?" asked Eritrea, dodging a hurtled blade.  
"Iri. She sensed that you were in danger."

The battle was going well, with our heroes sustaining minor injuries. It seemed as though things were going in their favor. Until Eritrea saw one assassin dashing towards Diarmuid from behind while he was finishing another.

_Kiritsugu_ _is too far away. I have to save him._

She ran, not knowing she was running towards her death.

The white roses were stained red. Diarmuid heard someone spitting out blood and turned around to find his master bleeding from a wound that Assassin caused. 

"NO!" he cried, catching his master before she fell and holding her in his arms.  
Eritrea struggled, "Finish them... Quickly..."

Diarmuid laid her body down to rest. Unfathomable rage amplified his focus and strength. After taking out his anger on the remaining assassins, he dropped his spears and rushed to Eritrea's side.

"Diarmuid," she began with labored breaths. "A-Are you hurt?"  
"No, master. I'm alright."

Eritrea breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes. 

"That's good. I wouldn't know what to do if you were..."  
"You shouldn't have..."  
"I had no choice. Not this time, Diarmuid. I finally understand the look in Sensei's eyes when she left me."

Eritrea paused, smiling weakly at her servant, "Diarmuid, there's... there's something I must say. Though I think you already know."   
"It can wait until you are healed, master. Don't speak as if you're going to die."  
"I'm afraid not... Lying was never one of your skills, Diarmuid."

He held his breath, afraid of what might come next.

"Diarmuid, I love you. I wanted... to tell you properly after the war but as you can see," she glanced downwards. "things don't always go according to plan."

She laughed a little at the last statement, wincing and grunting from the pain.

Diarmuid was astonished and overjoyed all at once. If only she knew how much he felt the same way. How long he had watched her everyday, wanting to speak his mind but never daring to believe he was anything more to her than a servant. Diarmuid opened his mouth to reply but Eritrea stopped him.

"I didn't say that to hear it said in return to me. I told you simply because I wanted you to know. Let that sink in before you answer."  
"Then you could not possibly imagine how much I longed to hear you say that."

Tears streamed down Diarmuid's face, tears of joy and affection.

"It's just a pity that I should say them now."

But neither joy nor affection could change what had already been done. Even Diarmuid knew that.

"Please understand, you're still bound to Grainne. I refuse to take what isn't mine to keep."

Eritrea chuckled wryly, who'd have thought that when she woke up that day, eating and making merry with her friends, that she would be bleeding to death only hours later?

Her gaze drifted towards the polished floors of the courtyard and the pool of blood at her wound before looking back at Diarmuid. She smiled through her suffering, breaths slowly getting shallow.

"It hurts, Diarmuid. It really hurts."

The servant tightened his grip on her hand, pressing another against the wound though he knew that preventing the blood loss was futile.

"Hold on. Hold on, Eritrea." he pleaded.  
"You know, this would be the part where I ask you to kill me, to help end the pain. But if I did, it would only hurt you more. So stay here with me. Stay here and properly see me off, will ya?"

Eritrea continued smiling, but now a teardrop was on her cheek.

It wasn't hers.

With no small amount of struggle, she raised her hands to touch Diarmuid's face.

"Make a pact with Kiritsugu and win this war. Claim your wish and once you've returned to Grainne and your children, remind them how much you love them as often as you can."  
"I can bring you back."   
"Tawake," she laughed, stroking his face, "I'm returning to my Father. A soul summoned from the peace of God's embrace will only return as a shade of what it once was. That is the blasphemous result... of a summoning made from tainted magic."

Even at death's door, Eritrea's countenance remained serene.

"I wanted to save more people. I wanted to see the world while making it a better place." she sighed, "But I know I have fought the good fight. Hopefully, my Father will say the same."  
"I love Grainne and my children deeply. But know that I love you as well. I just wish... I just wish I had more time to show you. I will win this war for you, Eritrea."

Diarmuid placed his hands on both sides of her face and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"Please never blame yourself for this, I just think it's fitting for me to have one last joke. I guess when I said that speed could never outdo raw power, I was right."

Diarmuid understood her sense of humor, but even for a joke it was a little too cruel. And though he tried to smile, he was crushed all the same.

"Is tú mo rogha. Ha. You are not my chosen one."

Like a lance to the heart, his feeble smile had vanished and tears of pain began falling from his golden eyes. It's alright. If Eritrea was angry with him, she deserved to be.

"Is tú a chuisle mo chroí."

Diarmuid's mouth hung open in surprise before curving into a smile. She always knew when to pick her moment.

But for all her moments, there wasn't another left to spare when the life faded from her eyes and the tapered fingers that held his face with such affection fell to the ground.

**Author's note: Is** **tú** **mo** **rogha** **is Irish for 'you are my chosen one'.**   
**'Is** **tú** **a** **chuisle** **mo** **chroí** **means 'you are my heart's beloved'. I put together the translation for the second one so it might not be accurate!**   
**'Ara' means 'oh my'.**   
**'** **Tawake** **' means 'idiot** **'.**

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

****

**Chapter Ten: A New Master**

Diarmuid wept silently as Eritrea's body disappeared in a swirling mass of golden sparks, the minuscule embers dancing their way to Heaven.

Kiritsugu stood to one side, unable to offer a word of comfort. Lancer rose from the ground, collecting his spears.

"We're going to finish what she started."

Kiritsugu nodded, then led the way back to his new base of operations.

"Is she safe? What happened?" asked Irisviel, rushing towards her husband.  
"She's gone. Eritrea sacrificed herself to save me." answered Diarmuid, his head hung low.  
"Her final wish was for me to become his new master and accomplish her goal." continued Kiritsugu.

Tears fell from Irisiviel's large ruby eyes, "Then we must, no matter the costs."

"Except that we won't just save the people of Fuyuki, we're going to save the world." said Kiritsugu.  
"But Eritrea said that that was impossible!" argued Diarmuid.  
"The Holy Grail is an omnipotent wish-granter. I think it would respect her wishes better if we saved more people. That _is_ one of the things she wanted most."

Diarmuid hesitated, but eventually surrendered.

"So be it."

Kiritsugu and the others were now gathered in a room inside the traditional Japanese mansion.

"The remaining servants are Archer, Rider and Lancer." said Kiritsugu, looking at a map.  
"What do you suggest we do, anata?" asked Irisviel.  
"I believe that we should ally ourselves temporarily with Rider until Archer is defeated, Saber went against him once so I was able to gauge his strength. He has a seemingly infinite supply of assorted weapons. But I doubt that's his trump card."  
"In other words, we don't know how dangerous he really is." spoke Diarmuid, standing in a corner.  
"Precisely. When we were battling Assassin, I managed to observe your fighting skills. You have good strength and advantages in certain aspects of combat. But frankly, the way you are now, you can forget about defeating Archer."

On any other day, Kiritsugu's words would have caused a vein to pulse in Diarmuid's temple. A friendly challenge of strength was one thing but the man had made it sound like he couldn't hold a candle to Archer.

However, Diarmuid couldn't care less about his pride at the moment, not when the wishes of his beloved former master were on the line. He understood the gravity of their circumstances and would not risk anything to chance.

"So how will we proceed with this?" asked Irisviel.  
"I will speak to Rider and his master myself. We were well acquainted for a short period of time before..."

 _Before Eritrea's death._ thought Kiritsugu, reading the servant like an open book.

Diarmuid choked. He couldn't bring himself to say the last few words. Not now, and perhaps not ever.

"I'll leave this in your hands then." said Kiritsugu, putting out his cigarette in a crystal ashtray.

Before first light, Diarmuid arrived at the Mackenzie's. He snuck into the room that his former master had recovered in after she was rescued.

Rider snored like a wild boar in a futon while Waver slept soundly in his own bed, unperturbed by the noise. Diarmuid decided to wake the humongous servant first. A wise decision. That is, if it were possible.

After multiple rounds of shaking and shoving, Rider still couldn't be woken from his peaceful slumber.

 _Shoot._ thought Diarmuid, choosing a more polite form of the word that Eritrea frequently uses.

 _Used_. he thought, correcting himself as melancholy flashed in his golden eyes.

Time was running out. He needed to inform them of his strategy before the elderly folk found out he was here.   
Diarmuid planned to come and go quietly so he wouldn't have to tell Glen and Martha why Eritrea wasn't around. So he changed his tactics and stepped lithely towards the British teen, gently shaking him.

What Diarmuid would later find ironic was that the boy could fall asleep despite Rider's snoring but was easily woken by a few light pushes. Waver Velvet, who spoke fluently in four languages, including Japanese, remained British until the very end. The Queen would have been proud.

"BLOODY HELL!!!"

As quickly as he could, Diarmuid clamped the boy's mouth shut. By then, Rider had already woken and drawn his sword.

"What is the meaning of this, servant Lancer? I expect you have a good explanation for your actions?"  
"I do, just-"

Another voice interrupted from downstairs.

"Waver, dear? What's the matter?"  
"I shall explain everything in detail but we need to go somewhere private."  
"Very well." sighed Rider, sheathing his blade.

Waver went down the steps and invented an excuse for the ruckus he caused.

"Again, sorry about that, grandma. Would you mind if I went out for a while?"  
"Whatever for, dearie? It's so early!"  
"I need some air. Besides, I can't go back to sleep anymore."  
"Alright Waver, but don't wander too far. Grandpa and I will see you at breakfast."  
"You're the best, grandma."

Waver gave Martha a quick peck on the cheek then stepped outside and summoned his servant using his telepathic connection.

Minutes later, they gathered at a stream that was walking distance from the house. The crystal-clear water was well shaded by a thicket of various trees.

"Jeez, you gave me a darn fright." grumbled Waver, clearly annoyed.  
"I'm sorry." murmured Lancer.

 _Something isn't right_. thought Rider, frowning at Diarmuid.

"Where is that Eritrea? I should reproach her over breakfast for letting you come here unsupervised. Speaking of which, you should be with her. What if she's in danger right now?"

At the mention of her name, his face fell.

"Doshta? Lancer?"  
"She's gone..."

 _So that's it_. concluded Rider.

"I don't understand. Gone where?"  
"She sacrificed herself to save me during our battle with Assassin."  
"...Souka."  
"As her final wish, I forged a contract with her uncle, Kiritsugu. We have devised a plan to defeat Archer but to accomplish that we need your help."  
"Uncle? Why her uncle?"

Diarmuid proceeded to elaborate on their relations, Kiritsugu's capabilities and their strategy. When he finished, Waver mulled over the situation before him.

"Allies then?"  
"Yes. Until Archer is defeated. Then Rider and I will have a proper battle to decide the winner of the Holy Grail."  
"I think it's a good plan. Waver and I had the misfortune of running into that fellow once. We're aware of his powers, he is a terribly strong opponent." said Rider, finally offering his opinion.  
"What did Eritrea want, had she been the victor?" asked Waver.  
"She wanted to put an end to the Holy Grail War, to prevent further bloodshed."  
"And this relative of hers, he shares the same wishes?"  
"On a far bigger scale. He wants to bring about a world without suffering and pain. He reasoned that the omnipotent Grail would be capable of this and that doing so would save more people. Which is exactly what Eritrea wanted."  
"Do you agree with him?"  
"Yes."  
"Rider and I are not giving up the Grail, that's for certain. But Eritrea was a dear friend, even if our time together was brief. If these are her wishes, then we will respect that cause. This temporary alliance will be our way of honoring her memory."  
"Well said master, I'm proud of you." exclaimed Rider, patting Waver on the back. Well, more like slamming really.  
"Thank you. Once again I find myself in your debt."  
"Which can be repaid in full once we engage in combat!" grinned Rider.

Diarmuid managed to smile a bit. At least not all the servants in this war were monsters. Then birdsong filled his ears and he turned to see the sun rising from behind the glen. The blinding rays reflected in the stream, causing its ripples and waves to glisten. The tree branches swayed gently in the breeze, accentuating the picturesque scenery.

 _You would have loved to see this._ thought Diarmuid.

The first rays caught in Lancer's golden eyes and Waver turned just in time to see the quiet grief within.

"I shall take my leave now. Thank you once again, master of Rider."

The raven-haired servant took off, disappearing swiftly from Waver's view.

The teenage boy was lost in thought, unsure of how to deal with Eritrea's sudden demise. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his servant nodding at him. Waver nodded in affirmation and turned to gaze at the sunrise.

"For you, my friend."

**Author's Note: '** **Doshta** **' means 'what's wrong' and '** **souka** **' means 'I see.'**

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

****

**Chapter Eleven: Betrayal**

Gilgamesh was lying in bed with a glass of expensive wine—no doubt from the cellars of his master—and thinking back to a conversation he had during his tussle with Saber.

"Lay down your blade and be my wife, Saber."  
"Preposterous. You would have me surrender the Grail for something so absurd?!"

Archer launched one of his spears at the blonde knight. She jumped to the side and evaded the weapon.

"I was not asking for your opinion, Saber. I was merely informing you of my decision."  
"Understand this, King of Heroes. There are some treasures in this world that even you, will never possess."

He smiled, staring at the burgundy liquid as he swirled it in his glass. Then he left the room in search of Kirei. Perhaps the priest would be able to alleviate his boredom.

Gilgamesh was not in the least fond of his master. He found Tokiomi a boring man, unworthy of his attention. The Tohsaka patriarch sought the Grail to bring back to life his beloved wife who died in labor along with the twins she had bore.

Tokiomi was an expert magus and a perfectionist. However, his one mistake which would later prove to be fatal was becoming too absorbed in his plans to notice the cognitive dissonance his apprentice, Kirei Kotomine, was undergoing.

On this night, he was cooped up in his study, going over strategies and possible outcomes. Unbeknownst to him, a conversation that would turn the tides of the war was taking place under the same roof.

Archer entered Kirei's room without knocking, holding a now half-finished glass of wine.

"Leaving already, Kirei? I thought you would at least like to see the aftermath of this war."  
"Servant Assassin has been eliminated. My duty to Tokiomi is finished."  
"Where will you go next?" asked the servant, not interested in his answer.  
"Who knows?" whispered Kirei to himself.  
"You're not actually planning to go through with this?"

Archer's gaze saw through his hesitation. Kirei, knowing the truth in Archer's words, did not retort. Archer saw his opportunity and took it.

"Even now, the Holy Grail calls out to you. You yourself long to continue fighting."

The priest swallowed his attempt at a rebuttal, knowing that there was nothing he could hide from the King of Heroes, who had seen through his entire deception. Perhaps the answer he searched for had yet to be unveiled by his heart. Turning away from Archer, Kirei continued packing his belongings.

"As I said, my responsibilities have been carried out. I'm free to leave."  
"But it seems as if you don't want to." smirked Archer.

Pain seared Kirei's palm. He raised it to the dim light and saw that his hand had been branded once more with the command seals of a master.

"Ah, you see? Even the Grail is aware of your true intentions."  
"Impossible." he gasped, staring wide-eyed at the scarlet markings.

Kirei should turn around and go. Leave the manor as Tokiomi's deferent disciple until the very end, settle down somewhere and live out the remainder of his days in the most mundane fashion possible. Though he would be bored out of his mind, at least his conscience would be clear.

"Do not waste your thoughts on such uninteresting matters, you fool."

Archer's voice interrupted the vision he was almost prepared to make a reality.

"A man such as yourself would not be so troubled if he were capable of changing his life that easily. Having questioned everything all your life, you would not rest in peace until those questions have been answered. Besides..."

The King of Heroes leaned in close and whispered.

"If you didn't intend on participating in the fight, then why bother kidnapping the homunculus?"

Kirei knew that deep down there was a chance he would rejoin the battle, which was why he captured Irisviel a few hours ago. He had devised an elaborate plan to ensure that Kiritsugu and his servant would be out of the way. That plan had been abandoned when he invaded the shed where the homunculus was residing without encountering either of them.

Kirei couldn't believe his luck, it was almost as if his enemy had wanted him to take her. Finding Irisviel was possible thanks to information he had accumulated weeks before on her base of operations. It had been a simple matter to kill the woman accompanying her and bring the homunculus back to a hideout of his own, not too far from the Tohsaka manor.

"You're right." said Kirei, turning around to face Archer. "I simply hadn't made the mental preparations until now. I was on the verge of giving up. But in the end it is as you said, one such as I can only live on with questions."  
"But that still leaves a few loose ends. If you've truly decided to participate in the Holy Grail War, you would become Tokiomi's enemy. And at this moment you are defenseless, in the same room with an enemy servant. It appears your desire to have your questions answered will be over before it even began."

Kirei ignored his suitcase, choosing instead to settle into a chair.

"Not at all. I do have an ace up my sleeve."  
"Oh?" remarked Archer, sitting down as well.  
"Since I am opposing Tokiomi, I have no further need to conceal his lies. Gilgamesh, allow me to enlighten you on something Tokiomi had withheld from you since the beginning of this bloodbath."   
"Which is?" 

His interest now piqued, the Babylonian king paid full attention to the conversation.

"The ritual held here in Fuyuki is an attempt to open a passage to the Root by means of sacrificing the souls of seven Heroic Spirits. The Great Grail is activated by killing _all_ seven servants. Do you understand? That's the reason Tokiomi has gone out of his way to avoid the usage of his command seals. Because when all the battles are over, he will require them to force his own servant into committing suicide."  
"Then you claim the loyalty Tokiomi has shown me all along was a lie?"  
"Put another way, he is a magus to his very core. Tokiomi may worship a Heroic Spirit, but he harbors no illusions about his idols."  
"Tokiomi, at last you have shown some hint of promise... That boring little man will finally be able to entertain me."

Kirei leaned back in his chair with a manner of crafty arrogance, like a dictator who tests his subordinates by asking questions whose answers he already knows.

"Now then, what will you do, King of Heroes? With the knowledge you now posses, will you remain loyal to Tokiomi and punish me for rebelling against him?"  
"A fair question, indeed. Regardless of his impending treachery, Tokiomi still supplies me with mana. Abandoning him would certainly hamper my ability to remain materialized."

Archer smiled mischievously.

"Come to think of it, there _is_ a master with command seals but no partner. One who is searching for a servant unbound by contract."  
"Now that you mention it, you're right. But there is a question of whether that man is a worthy master in the eyes of the King of Heroes."  
"He shall suffice. He may be a tad stiff, but he has great potential for growth. That man may yet prove to be a fine source of entertainment for me."

Kirei chuckled in the gloom of the shadows. He had made up his mind.

Almost eight hours had gone by since the passing of Maiya Hisau and the capture of Irisviel. Lancer had been going about Fuyuki City, looking for his master's wife. Kiritsugu on the other hand was now sitting in a tree, observing a pond behind Ryuudouji Temple which was situated along Mount Enzou.

The ultimate goal of the Holy Grail Wars was to hold a ceremony for the descent of the Grail itself. Therefore, securing a proper place for the altar is an integral part of the victor's plans. In Fuyuki, there were only three locations with sufficient prana to summon the Grail.

The first was Mount Enzou, the current Tohsaka residence was the second, and the last was the hill where Fuyuki Church was built.

Even if his opponent had taken possession of the Holy Grail's vessel, they would have to perform the ceremony at either one of these key spiritual lands. Kiritsugu could then set up traps and ambush the enemy at those locations, giving him the opportunity to turn the tables.

Kiritsugu had used his time since Irisviel's kidnapping wisely, securing Fuyuki Church as well as the Tohsaka estate, where he recently broke into and confirmed Tokiomi's fallout and Kirei's comeback.

Kiritsugu planted booby traps and numerous explosives in both buildings until morning. Since noon, he had been laying the finishing touches for another entrenchment at Ryuudouji Temple and was now on the lookout.

Kiritsugu predicted that Kirei would likely choose Mount Enzou as the ceremonial place since he had readily left Fuyuki Church and the Tohsaka grounds. But he had laid traps there anyway for the off-chance that Kirei's abandonment of the two locations was a bluff to mislead him.

As for Irisviel's life, Kiritsugu had already accepted its loss in principal. Since he met them, he had been destined to part with Maiya and Irisviel. Sure enough, he was now all alone as he entered the final stage of the battle.

The boundary field surrounding the temple gates picked up a presence on its sensors. Kiritsugu gripped his Calico submachine gun and examined the premises.

But caution was unnecessary as the spiritual aura approaching him was one that he recognized. Lancer stopped a short distance from the tree where his master had been hiding.

"I have been searching the streets for Lady Irisviel since last night, but I could not find her. I'm very sorry, Master."

Kiritsugu peered downwards but said nothing. From midnight until noon, he had been preparing deathtraps for Kirei Kotomine while Lancer had been going about the city looking for Irisviel without a clue.

His actions suggested no strategic planning whatsoever. But at the same time, it was a spit in Kiritsugu's face, who had doomed his wife in the first place. The figure that knelt on the ground got up.

"I shall resume my search for Lady Irisviel. Should the need arise, either summon me with the telepathic connection or the command seals."

Kiritsugu had always thought he was a man who had rid himself of the human heart. In other words, thrown away all and any capability to feel and to love.

When Irisviel came into his life, all that had changed. But Kiritsugu didn't realize it until much later. He had resolved to killing her one day in order to obtain the vessel kept inside her body.

Kiritsugu believed that he was fully prepared for this but when it came to it, he was wrong. It was never his intention to fall in love, but he had and it came with a heavy price. So he decided he would allow his enemies do the job instead.

When Lancer had returned from his successful negotiations with Rider and his master, Kiritsugu sent him away with a multitude of seemingly important tasks. Leaving Irisviel in the hands of his assistant, Maiya.

He could have ordered Maiya to eliminate his wife but he didn't want that blood on her hands. Which is why he arranged for her capture to happen.

Kiritsugu hoped that Maiya would have at least escaped alive, but she didn't. At one point, he even had half a mind to drop her off at Fuyuki Church himself, damn the consequences.

But in the end, he decided against it because Irisviel deserved to have her last memories of their marriage be blissful and loving ones. So Kiritsugu gave up his queen, because he knew deep down that when the time came, he would not be able to kill her himself.

Knowing that his actions went against all the principles Lancer upheld as a knight, he had kept the truth from him. Now, he despised himself for his cowardice and betrayal.

If he lived to see this through, he wasn't sure that he'd be able to sleep soundly ever again. The only thing that kept him stable now was the belief that the ends would justify his means.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

****

**Chapter Twelve: The Deep Breath Before the Plunge**

When Lancer came back to the Japanese mansion, he found Kiritsugu waiting expectantly in the courtyard.

"Lancer, I need to speak with you about Irisviel."  
"My humblest apologies, master. I failed to find her again."  
"About that. I need you to abandon the search for my wife."  
"I beg your pardon, master?"

Lancer resisted the temptation to look into Kiritsugu's eyes and remained kneeling.

"I have explained to you before about Irisviel's identity as well as her purpose in this war. Her death was guaranteed, our victory is not. That's why I need you to concentrate and prepare yourself for the battle ahead."

Diarmuid was startled, he knew that Lady Irisviel's death was a vital and unavoidable outcome. But Kiritsugu seemed to have acknowledged that as easily as one would accept the colour of the sky or the presence of the sun. Unquestioned and unflustered.

How could his master have arrived at that conclusion with such ease? Nevertheless, he stood up and answered.

"Very well, master."

Over the next two days, Kiritsugu and Waver refined their plans and communicated with one another. Waver was scared out of his wits when someone called his cellphone and addressed himself as Diarmuid's master.

_That man really has all the tools, huh? Lancer wasn't kidding._

On the second night, Waver saw peculiar flashes of light beyond his bedroom window. Immediately, he took out his handphone and dialed a number.

Diarmuid was standing by the pier, watching a waning gibbous moon control the undulation of the tides.

In this place, and in this silence, it was only inevitable for his mind to drift towards a certain someone.

Eritrea was looking out her bedroom window. A full moon and a rainy night causing gleaming rivulets to run down the glass. She felt like herself for once.

She leaned her forehead against the window pane, letting the moonlight bathe her in its celestial glow.

Thinking that her servant was still downstairs finishing up the dishes, Eritrea sang softly to herself.

_Oh, what a marvelous sight_

_Oceans turn to gold right before my eyes_

_That vibrant color I crave_

_Wish I could taste_

_Take me there, take me there_

_I'll dive in the sky, oh the water's alive_

_I'll float down to soak in the stars_

_Swim away from the night, I am swallowed by light_

_Suddenly love doesn't seem very far_

_Here in this castle that sits on a cloud_

_Something consumes this heart, rooted deep down_

_Now slowly I'm falling_

_But I don't need saving_

_You've already got me_

_You've already got me_

_This celestial glow is blinding_

_I'll dive in the sky, oh the water's alive_

_I'll float down to soak in the stars_

_Swim away from the night, I'm swallowed by light_

_Suddenly love doesn't seem very far_

_Take me there, take me there_

Eritrea sighed, something she had been doing a lot ever since this war began. She looked at the moon beyond her windows with a rueful smile, oblivious to the piercing amber irises that had been watching in the shadows.

There was wonder and appreciation in her eyes and his. But unlike his master, Diarmuid was not captivated by the moon.

A gravelly voice behind Diarmuid woke him from his reverie.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?"

The man remained silent but Kiritsugu already knew the answer. He stood beside the servant, looking towards the sky.

"I never got to spend much time with my niece. But one of the things I found most amusing and memorable about Eritrea was her mastery of sarcasm from an early age."

There was the ghost of a smile in Kiritsugu's features as he went on to explain a memory.

"I once watched her learn how to write the alphabet and numbers when she was a little girl. Her mother was extremely frustrated because the letters and numerals were all far too small. After multiple scoldings, little Eritrea had had it so she burst out in defiance, 'Well what do you want me to do? Write one on each paper?' She got a head start on sarcasm before she even knew it existed."

Diarmuid chuckled inwardly, smiling at the thought of his former master—diminutive and derisive.

Then flashes of light in two varying colours shot up in the night sky, interrupting the serenity of the evening. Before either could say a word, Kiritsugu's phone vibrated and he answered the call.

"Are you seeing this? The lights." came a voice from the other end.  
"Yes. Four and seven in different colours, each symbolizing success and victory." answered Kiritsugu.  
"If they're sending up that signal, does it mean the Grail War is over?"  
"No. It's coming from a direction other than the church."  
"Then the church didn't send that message."  
"In essence, someone is getting ahead of themselves and declaring victory. The signal is a way of saying, 'if you object, come and get me.' It's a challenge." said a deep, throaty voice in the background.  
Kiritsugu nodded, "It seems the final showdown will occur tonight. Lancer will join you and Rider in battle, I have another fight to settle on my own."  
"Understood. Good luck."

Once the call was terminated and his cellphone put away, Kiritsugu went back to watching the moon beside Lancer. An easterly wind blew past them, suspending Diarmuid's stray lock of hair in the breeze and rustling the treetops.

The tranquility of their surroundings was almost deceptive, and for a moment Kiritsugu allowed himself to believe that there hadn't been an apocalyptic ongoing battle for the past few months, that he was just a simple man enjoying the view on this fine night.

"It's time." he said.  
"Yes."  
Kiritsugu turned to face the servant.  
"Don't hold back tonight. No matter the circumstances, you must grant us victory."  
"I will."

Lancer took off with his spears, tracing Rider's spiritual aura to the scene where their final showdown would take place. The two men had parted ways and as Kiritsugu headed in the opposite direction he began thinking to himself. It was then that he realized something.

The Fuyuki Municipal Hall was the fourth location with adequate prana to summon the Holy Grail. Of course, he had known that. But since the flow of mana was not as potent as the other three, Kiritsugu had decided not to set up his traps over there.

If Kirei Kotomine was truly after the Grail, then he would have chosen to conduct the ceremony at one of the other three locations.

That man had selected the municipal hall because the likelihood of an ambush there was the lowest. Kirei's primary objective then was not the successful descent of the Grail, but the bloodshed involved in procuring it.

_Kirei Kotomine chose the place least suited for the ritual in order to gain the upper hand in battle. In other words, his plan is not to steal the Grail. But rather, to use it as bait, to kill me and the other master. That simplifies things. If he's this incompetent an opponent, I'll just eliminate him quickly._

With that conclusion, the Magus Killer took sure-footed strides towards the municipal hall. The board was set, its pieces in motion. Kiritsugu Emiya would either win the fourth Holy Grail War,

 

Or die trying.

 

 

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

****

**Chapter Thirteen: The Death of a Dream**

Three courageous hearts approached the bridge, brightly lit by mercury lamps. As they stepped from the shadows into the light, it felt as though a spotlight was enveloping them. Like performers getting on stage for their final appearance. Waver Velvet sat on the majestic steed, Bucephalus, with the steady thumping of Rider's heart behind him.

The British teen felt as if he had just sprinted a hundred metre course; his heart beat like drums at a rock concert. Diarmuid walked beside them, wielding his spears and girding his loins.

Waver finally knew what it meant to experience deafening silence. And though there was no audience present for this curtain call, the suspense was irrefutable.

"Rider..."

The King of Conquerors answered Waver with a nod.

Standing on the bridge was a figure who radiated light akin to the Sun's. Its glaring brilliance scowling at the lamps overhead as if they were distasteful counterfeits. The arrogance and unforgiving coldness in his glowing crimson eyes caused the blood in Waver's body to freeze.

It was the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh. Though Waver knew that this was an unavoidable encounter and that a veritable distance stood between them, he felt no less intimidated. Their opponent's tremendous aura bore down on him like the abysmal depths of the ocean.

"Are you scared, boy?" asked Rider, feeling his master's tiny frame tremor against his chest.  
"Yeah, I suppose this is what you mean when you say your heart is racing."  
"It seems you're starting to understand." said the King of Conquerors with a pleased expression as he alighted from Bucephalus.

Rider planted his feet on the asphalt and walked with a kingly air towards the waiting enemy. Like a scripted scene from a play, Gilgamesh also began stepping forward to meet his opponent in the middle, his golden armor making an imperious clink with every move.

Waver couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Are they... Drinking?"

Diarmuid's gaze never left the pair conversing in the middle of the bridge.

"They are beginning the battle in proper decorum. It is a conversation among Kings."

"I see you have brought another to our battle this evening. Did you really think that the presence of one more could bring about my defeat?"  
"Lancer is a noble knight who seeks only to fulfill his master's wishes. Far be it from me to get in the way of that resolve."  
"I did not come all this way to waste precious speech and time on that mongrel. He is but another petty creature I shall trample without remorse. Never mind that, where is that little chariot you're so proud of?" questioned Archer, summoning two golden goblets and a carafe filled with quality wine.

Rider emptied out the contents, "Well... I'm embarrassed to say that I lost it in a match with Saber."  
"Did you forget my decision? I believe I told you that I would not defeat you unless you were at your full strength."  
"True, the weapons at my disposal are somewhat depleted. However, on this night Iskandar is less than perfect and thus, is greater than perfection."

It was a contradiction unto himself, but Gilgamesh disregarded his incoherence and examined Rider from head to toe. Any ordinary person would have quivered beneath his scrutinizing gaze but the King of Conquerors stood tall and composed.

"I see. Indeed the aura that is emanating from you is unusually potent. It appears you have come before me believing that you have a chance at victory."

Both of them smiled in bitter satisfaction. Then they knocked their cups together and finished the wine.

Though he had lost one of his Noble Phantasms, mana overflowed from the King of Conquerors. The three command seals Waver had used up for this battle were already taking effect. Rider in his current state, could be said to be several times more perfect than before.

"King of Babylonia, a final word. The summation of our banquet."  
"I shall permit it. Speak."

Rider kept his goblet raised, a serious expression mixed with a hint of naïveté.

"Purely hypothetically, were my Ionian Hetairoi armed with your Gate of Babylon, it would create an army powerful beyond comprehension."  
Gilgamesh scoffed, "What of it?"

Rider leaned forward, the naïveté overtaking his regal composure.

"Would you not ally yourself with me? Together, the two of us could conquer the very stars."

The King of Heroes guffawed unreservedly.

"You never cease to amuse me. It has been ages since I laughed so hard at gibberish spouted by one who is not a fool."

Even in an outward expression of mirth, his ruthlessness did not mitigate in the slightest. Bloodshed was the occurrence from which this golden ruler derived pleasure.

"Unfortunately, I have had but one companion, and he is all I shall ever have. Furthermore, the universe has no need for two kings."  
"The lonely path of kingship, eh? Very well, I shall challenge your unwavering spirit with respect and admiration."  
"Excellent. Show me what you are capable of, King of Conquerors. You are an usurper worthy of my judgement."

The two kings flung their goblets up high. Waver thought the drinking vessels seemed to suspend in mid-air for just a second. Then they clattered once on the pavement and disappeared with a cloud of golden dust. Rider and Archer turned on their heels, heading back to the bridgeheads without taking another glance at each other.

"Are you guys actually friends?" asked Waver.  
"I could hardly be ill-mannered towards him. He may very well be the last person I see."  
"Don't be absurd... You can't be killed. I won't allow it! Have you forgotten about my command seals?"  
Waver's vehemence surprised Rider. He smiled.  
"You're right... You're exactly right!"

Rider directed his attention to Diarmuid.

"The time has come, servant Lancer, for you to fulfill the desires of your masters. Do battle in such a way that will bring honor to the Lancer class! Fight freely and without regret."

Diarmuid nodded as he watched Rider mount his steed once again. The King of Conquerors drew forth his sword and pointed it heavenward.

"Gather, my brethren! Tonight, we leave the greatest mark upon history!"

As an expanding sphere of energy engulfed them, Diarmuid closed his eyes and made one final thought.

_Every moment has led up to this. Have faith in me, Eritrea. I will grant you victory._

Hot sand blew in their faces and The King of Conqueror's heavy cape billowed in the dry wind. This was the Reality Marble that Rider had explained to Diarmuid before their arrival at the bridge.

The dunes around them stretched out as far as the eye could see. Lancer marveled at the vastness of the plains, but he hadn't seen anything yet. Waver heard the coordinated footsteps of the advancing infantry behind them, their valiant heartbeats synchronized with the King of Conqueror's.

_Ah, the cavalry has arrived._

"Our enemy is the mighty King of Heroes, a worthy opponent! My warriors, let us show the very first Heroic Spirit our path of conquest!" yelled Rider, bursting with pride.

As he heard the spirited battle cries of the shining elites behind him, Diarmuid had a newfound appreciation for King Iskandar, and he gazed upon him with a greater sense of awe.

Rider pointed his sword ahead and charged forward with a dauntless roar. Lancer and the rest of the troops followed suit.

Miles away, Archer stood alone, confronting the army without a modicum of distress. Though he was but a single individual, his presence was no less imposing than the one before him.

"Come to me, Lord of Conquering Armies. Now, you will behold the sight of a true king."

At Gilgamesh's boastful challenge, the soldiers closed in like the desert wind, led by their King on his noble steed. Diarmuid took long strides beside him, feeling his spears sing with his knightly pride and that of the warriors behind him.

Rider bellowed as he spearheaded the attack. Answering his roar, the cavalry released their battle cries. Gripping the mane of Bucephalus, Waver joined in the fervent noises with all his might.

"A—lalalalalalaie!"

The ground shook beneath them and clouds of dust swirled in the air as Ionian Hetairoi approached. Even in the face of such a foreboding spectacle, Gilgamesh did not yield in the slightest. What dwelled in those crimson eyes was pure, unadulterated satisfaction. One that surpassed the boundaries of banality.

For a ruler who had explored every pleasure the world had to offer, Gilgamesh was genuinely pleased. In this time and place, he had finally met his match, someone he could truly acknowledge as an enemy. A challenge from Rider was worthy of him calling forth his full strength.

"To unite dreams beneath a banner of conquest. At the very least, I praise your efforts."

Gilgamesh summoned the vault containing his treasures in the palm of his hand. However, he did not deploy the Gate of Babylon. What he took out was a single sword, its appearance that of a golden key.

"But brave warriors, did you not learn? That all dreams must disappear when the dreamer wakes. Every last one of them."

The gears of this abnormal weapon moved into position and its tip shot up gleaming ruby marks similar to a circuit board's, but far more powerful.

Even in the heat of battle, Waver couldn't help admiring its structure. The scorching sun reflected off the markings as they receded back into their source and were replaced by a floating orb of light.

"And thus, it was inevitable that I would stand in your way, King of Conquerors."

A sword descended from the orb into Archer's palm. It resembled a jousting lance, but the blade was shorter and bulkier, and the hilt larger in comparison.

The sword was split into three revolving components, creaking with the heft and power it carried. Tremendous amounts of prana overflowed from the otherworldly weapon.

"Behold the end of your eternal dream. I myself, shall show you harsh reality."

Archer lifted his hand high above his head, the sword rotated faster, gathering power and speed with each passing moment.

Rider, who had perceived the threat through his battle-hardened instincts, gripped Bucephalus's reins tightly as he braced himself.

"Here it comes!"

It rumbled like a typhoon, exuding waves of prana into the atmosphere.

"Now awaken, Ea! A stage worthy of you has been set! Look up and behold... Enuma Elish!"

The foundations of the earth shook beneath their feet at the overwhelming release of the prana. The Sword of Rupture was true to its name. On the back of Bucephalus, Rider saw the ground splitting like cracked glass, the fractures widening rapidly and threatening to swallow them whole.

"Hang on, boy! Lancer, the straps, now!"

Lancer dematerialized his spears and increased his pace. He made a nimble leap, latching onto the reins with one hand and holding onto Bucephalus's mane with the other. This was it. The charging steed would either bridge the gap or fall straight into the abyss.

But of course, the horse and its master were not the kind to be daunted by such peril. Responding to Rider's reins, Bucephalus soared into the sky with a kick of its powerful hind legs. The experience was a tightrope walk, life and death hanging in the balance. Literally and literary. After an endless instant, Bucephalus's hooves landed on _terra_ _firma_ once more.

Waver would have felt relieved were it not for the anguished screams of the soldiers on the opposite end. The brigade of the King, not having limbs as strong as Bucephalus's, were incapable of crossing the fissure in the earth, and fell helplessly into the darkness.

Those further behind halted at the very fringe and were saved from the plummet. Diarmuid had not fully recovered from the heart-stopping situation before he was thrown into another. He fixed his eyes skyward and saw the azure firmament breaking apart like so much bone china.

"That... That sword is the anti-planet Noble Phantasm that can destroy all creation?"

The entire world was collapsing around their ears, earth and sky fracturing like the remnants of a broken dream. Bucephalus planted his hooves firmly with each step as he braved the elements.

Meanwhile, the sandy plains woven by Ionian Hetairoi were torn asunder like threads of a cloth ripped from their seams. The fabric of the Reality Marble had come apart, and the steed stepped out from one dimension into another, carrying its passengers back to the great bridge of Fuyuki.

On the opposite bridgehead, Gilgamesh blocked their path with a self-satisfied smile. The distance between them had not changed, the only alteration was the Sword of Rupture in Archer's hands and the demolition of Ionian Hetairoi—Rider's trump card and Waver's hope. Diarmuid alighted from the horse.

"Rider..."

The same words Waver uttered when they first arrived at the scene of the battle.

The King of Conquerors held a grave expression on his usually cheeky face.

"Come to think of it, there is one thing I must ask you."  
The young boy gasped and Rider looked down at him.  
"Waver Velvet, would you like to serve as my retainer?"  
His entire body shook with emotion as tears welled up in his eyes.  
"You... You are my king... I will serve you. I will devote myself to you. Please, lead me. Let me see the same dream!"  
King Iskandar gave a contented grunt.  
"Very well."

Before Waver could express the fullness of his joy, he felt his body lifted into space. 

"...Huh?"

Rider had picked up the boy from the back of Bucephalus and lowered him gently onto the road. Looking up at the king, Waver was reminded again of his significant lack in height.

"As king, my duty is to inspire others to dream. As my retainer, it is your task to see my dream to the end, and to speak of it to future generations."

Upon his saddle, the King of Conquerors gave Waver a bright smile as he passed down his royal command.

"Live, Waver. See all of this to the end. Live long, and tell everyone of how your king comported himself! Of the charge of Iskandar!"

Waver hung his head low, unable to look any longer into Rider's eyes. But that was answer enough. Then the King of Conquerors spoke in quiet tones, staring right at the enemy before him.

"Lancer, stand your ground. When the opportunity arises, charge forward without hesitation. You'll know when it comes."  
Diarmuid nodded, taking his place a few paces in front of Waver.

"Now... To conquest, Bucephalus!"

The King of Conquerors kicked the flanks of his horse, and it neighed in response, speeding off to face the enemy.

_Glory lies beyond the horizon... Challenge it because you know it to be unattainable. Speak of conquest, and make it real. For my men, who watch behind me!_

Rider gave a roar, testament to his final hurrah. There was no regret, no fear, only exhilaration in his thumping heart.

The King of Heroes, gazed unruffled at his combatant and dispatched the treasures in his vault. A myriad of weapons surged forth from the Gate of Babylon, shining like comets in the night.

"A—lalalalalalaie!"

He rushed onwards with his trusted companion, parrying one blow after another. The shower of comets approached and landed without remorse. Even so, the pain was nothing compared to the anticipation in Rider's heart.

Just then, Diarmuid sprinted forward, his dual lances in hand.

"Oh? Have you finally decided to die by my hand? Come then, your demise will be a beautiful end to your miserable existence." said Archer, though no one heard it.

Swords and spears came for Diarmuid, but he ran ahead, sure-footed and unflinching.

_This time, I shall prove you wrong. Let's see how his destructive power matches up against my speed._

Rider had found it. The end he had been seeking for now towered over his path. Now, he would surpass it. He would overcome this insurmountable obstacle. One foot in front of the other. The only thing he had to do now was repeat that. Step by step and even that distant enemy would taste the conquest in his blade.

In his fervor, everything else had blurred out of existence. When he felt the pound of asphalt against his feet, only then did he realize his beloved steed was no longer carrying him towards the opponent. King Iskandar would mourn the loss of his companion, who had faithfully carried out his duty to the end. And he would honour that sacrifice by defeating his rival.

Under ordinary circumstances, Diarmuid would have died from the deadly shower of Noble Phantasms that came for him. But after what he had experienced within Rider's Reality Marble, this knight had found strength and inspiration from a king he did not even serve.

He narrowly escaped the tip of one spear, grazing his face instead of piercing his head. His left arm was bleeding profusely from two injuries and his right thigh sustained a deep cut. Nevertheless, he charged forward valiantly, his long legs carrying him swiftly across the distance. Lancer wielded his spears with skill and artistry. His deft movements were inimitable. Elegant, nimble, enthralling.

The combatant was getting closer, the banner at the finish line. Rider could almost taste victory from the blood in his mouth. The bright red soaking his feet may have been the consequence of a weapon he could not evade or repel. But what of it? He was a few steps away from achieving his dream. How could there be any greater bliss?

Archer awaited his arrival, right before his very eyes. Just one more step and then another, and his blade would cleave asunder the crown of his golden head.

Rider swung his sword, putting every last bit of force he could muster into the attack. It was the culmination of a moment where he was convinced of his victory. The final strike that should have occurred in the blink of an eye seemed to stretch on for eternity. 

But time had not stopped, his body had. Before the sword could reach its mark, his weapon, his limbs and his abdomen were wrapped by a heavy chain. At that moment, the Noble Phantasms stopped surging forth. Diarmuid made an agile leap to safety, disappearing into the shadows.

The King of Conquerors sighed.

"I swear... It's one strange toy after another with you, isn't it?"  
"Ha! You see? Even a renowned knight cowers before my greatest treasure. You were foolish to rely on the help of that mongrel."

Gilgamesh's Sword of Rupture pierced Rider's chest with its dull tip. The blade grinded against his insides as it was lodged deeper still.

"Have you awakened from your dream, King of Conquerors?"  
"I suppose I have... My heart raced a good deal throughout this expedition."

Archer kept the sword where it was but released the chains from their grip. An ominous clang reverberated as Rider's weapon fell to earth. It was music to the ears of Gilgamesh. That noise was the sound of ultimate defeat.

"Come out, mongrel! You will suffer a slow and painful death for your cowardice!"

Diarmuid leaped from his hiding place, behind the King of Heroes.

"No frontal assault? I suppose that _is_ the way of a coward." smirked Gilgamesh.

Then a firm pair of hands grasped onto his Sword of Rupture. Archer turned around, wide-eyed.

_Nani_ _?!_

He was greeted by the King of Conquerors, with a smile on his face.

_If you want to make sure he's dead this time, go for the brain._

Eritrea's voice was the final thought Diarmuid had before pushing his spears out the back of Archer's skull. And though to him it seemed as if the seconds ticked by a little longer, everything had actually happened in the blink of an eye. Speed and the element of surprise had worked in their favour.

As Ea faded out of existence with its master, King Iskandar fell into Diarmuid's arms.

"Go."

That was the last word he managed to utter before he too, disappeared with a mass of golden sparks. Diarmuid stood in silence for a moment, honoring his fallen comrade. Then he collected his spears and headed towards the teenager at the bridgehead. The boy's head hung low when Diarmuid appeared in front of him. He place one hand on his shoulder.

"What will you do now?"  
"I will fulfill my oath... I will live as my king commanded me to do so!"

Amazing. In his lifetime, Diarmuid had been on perilous quests, met great kings and battled fearsome armies. This boy that stood before him—with his tiny build, sagging shoulders and quivering frame as a result of restraining the tears that would soon spill forth—this, was no ordinary teenager.

"Your loyalty is splendid. Never tarnish it."

Diarmuid's hand gave Waver a firm squeeze before falling back to where it was. Covered with wounds, the First Spear of the Fianna marched onward.

Waver Velvet fell on his hands and knees. Fate had dictated on this night that Lancer, not Rider, would be the last one standing.

But cruel it was not. For he had been graced with the greatest honour imaginable. The King of Conquerors had acknowledged and assigned him. He was told that he would join the ranks of his company.

Yes. Because of those words said before, he was not alone. The moment he understood this, Waver had emerged from the chrysalis of adolescence.

Now, on the desolate bridge, his tears flowed freely, devoid of humiliation or regret. These were the warm, fresh tears of a man.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

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**Chapter Fourteen: The Decisive Battle**

As he waited for his opponent, Kirei Kotomine could feel the blood coursing through his veins. The excitement he savored was far more divine than any benediction he could care to think of.

This demented ritual where everyone clawed desperately for the chance to obtain a wish-granting cup was something he found delightfully appealing to his sadistic nature. People were willing to kill and betray (or in his case, both) to whisper their deepest desires to the omnipotent Grail. It was the perfect display of human nature. Hearing the approaching footsteps, he recited a biblical verse.

"He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Though I walk through the valley of shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life."

Since the beginning, he had been drawn towards Kiritsugu like a rabid dog, pursuing him with an unrelenting resolve. All because in the midst of this bloodbath, Kirei Kotomine had found his reason to fight, and was now looking at it dead in the eye. He kissed the golden crucifix hung around his neck, smiling contemptuously.

Kiritsugu took his stance. This was the Executor in the flesh. He had cut off all other ties of emotion and was only focused on the adversary before him. There was no fear, no hatred, no underestimation nor compassion. Eliminating the target was his objective now, nothing else.

As this fight to the death was nearing its conclusion, it seemed as if the stars had aligned themselves for this one battle. Kiritsugu Emiya had his gun barrel trained on the priest. Kirei Kotomine pulled out his Black Keys, three in his left and three in his right, then sprinted forth to meet his opponent.

With proficiency that was developed over the years, Kiritsugu fired his first shot from the Contender. Meanwhile, Kirei made use of one command seal, causing his Black Keys to swell to two times their original proportions. He whipped them in front of his chest like a giant metal fan.

The bullet reached its target, but instead of causing Kirei's magic circuits to misfire, it was absorbed by the magically enhanced Black Keys. However, the forceful execution of this large scale magecraft transcended the weapon's physical limitations. Upon the bullet's impact, they shattered into countless pieces.

A figure in dark robes drew nearer, like a deadly arrow released from its bowstring. Kiritsugu's breath hitched in his throat.

"Time Alter, Double Accel!"

His instincts had saved him from a critical injury. Bending backwards at the last second, he watched as Kirei's right foot swept over him, missing the tip of his nose. He jumped away, avoiding a kick that was meant for his neck. With his machine gun, he held off further advancements from the priest.

Kirei somersaulted back to safety. The bullets that ricocheted off the Black Keys diverged from their path and shattered the ceiling above. Landing on his feet, he deflected the remaining bullets with flawlessly executed maneuvers. A silence reigned between them as the tip of his blades repelled the last projectile.

 _The_ _Origin_ _Round_ _isn't_ _working_.

Kiritsugu's frown slashed deeper upon further inspection.

_Īe_ _..._ _Naruhodo_ _. He's using command seals as his_ _mana_ _source. By the time the round takes effect, the command seal has already vanished. Since he doesn't use his own magic circuits, the Origin Round's magic won't work. But if I can hit him, it'll still be strong enough to kill him._

As Kiritsugu was thinking, Kirei dematerialized his Black Keys and went into a martial arts stance. Beyond his extended palm, the priest stared down his opponent.

_Don't think you'll escape next time. Now that I know you're moving at twice the speed of an average human, I simply need to adjust my timing to compensate for it._

Though his roundhouse kick had been for naught, Kirei was undeniably an expert martial artist. Kiritsugu had to ensure there was some distance from his enemy or he wouldn't stand a chance. If he stayed out of his attacker's range but kept close enough for his Contender's bullet to be unpredictable, then even the bulletproof frock that Kirei wore would not be able to deflect its penetration.

The Executor rushed forward again, reducing the distance between them and catching his opponent off-guard. Though Kiritsugu had never believed in God, what happened next could not be explained as anything other than an act of the Divine. Before his cognitive functions could respond, the words came out from his mouth.

"Time Alter, Triple Accel!"

His increased mobility, though unable to completely avoid the destructive power behind Kirei's fist, had saved him from certain death. Kiritsugu, who had called upon his Innate Time Control at the last moment, moved aside just far enough to elude the full force of Kirei's attack. Instead the blow that sent him flying backwards into the wall came from the fourth and fifth knuckle. The collision of concrete against flesh resulted in broken bones and expectorated blood.

Above them, the cold corpse of the Lady Irisviel lay recumbent on a stage. Then her body burst into flames, engulfing the dead homunculus. Like a Phoenix rising from the ashes she transformed into a shining cup. Its resplendence was a swan song worthy of a standing ovation. The Holy Grail had finally been revealed.

Kirei exhaled, still clenching his fist. The figure before him was nothing more than a crushed insect. This was the victory he had pursued with such maddening fervor, and it had ended in an instant. Battle fatigue dulled Kirei's focus, making him the target of surprise. The priest felt a searing pain in his brow, and a splatter of crimson obscured the view in his left eye. A merciless hail of bullets rained down on him.

Survival instinct caused him to raise both arms up for cover. The integrity of his Kevlar sleeves held together against the force of the bullets, barely. Kiritsugu's lungs were partially destroyed, but he gave thanks for the position he was in. Feigning death, he resisted the urge to cough as he awaited the opportunity to launch his attack. His body was positioned at an awkward angle, but he made do. Aiming for his head Kiritsugu fired, but the bullet landed on Kirei's brow.

Kiritsugu managed to scratch his opponent. However, the Contender was lacking a bullet in its chamber. Reloading it would take time, mere seconds. But that had been enough for Kirei to almost kill him. So he switched his machine gun into full automatic mode, restraining Kirei's movements with suppressive fire. Having used a higher level of Innate Time Control before, Kiritsugu had sustained serious internal damage. He would have to be more prudent with his defensive measures now.

"Time Alter, Double Accel!"

The Magus Killer stood up, flinging his semi-automatic aside and reaching into the folds of his coat for his Origin Round. Kirei uncrossed his arms, sprinting towards him, another command seal disappearing from his hand. Contender reloaded, Kiritsugu aimed, and fired. Kirei raised his right arm to deflect it. Blood vessels ruptured and his limb flopped to the side like a dead fish.

Kiritsugu panted heavily as he watched his enemy. The usage of Innate Time Control came with a great cost. But he stood his ground, directing a scornful gaze at him. The two analyzed their circumstances, considering their next move.

According to his analysis, Kirei's strategy consisted of the prana source which nullified his Origin Rounds coupled with the destructive power of his martial arts.

_I'm at a massive disadvantage at close range. I've lost my Calico. The Contender needs reloading. I have one knife and two grenades left._

The excruciating pain Kirei felt now fueled his malevolence, and he expressed it with the distilled hatred spilling from his eyes. His right arm had been damaged severely, it would only manage one more blow if he was willing to sacrifice his fist. The wound on his forehead was not serious, but the bleeding obstructed his vision. This time he would go for the brain, and finish the battle.

_I have twelve Black Keys and eight spare command seals._

"Time alter, Triple Accel!"

Making the first move, Kiritsugu raised his Contender and used it to smash Kirei's right arm. Though his opponent's martial arts were formidable, victory would be his if he played his cards right.

He drew the dagger from his waist, but Kirei pivoted his body, drawing his blind spot away from Kiritsugu as he dodged the subsequent blows with his left arm. Kiritsugu slashed at him furiously but the priest blocked each and every attack with incredible prowess.

Kirei shifted his stance, hooking Kiritsugu's right foot with his and knocking him off his balance. Realizing his impending doom, Kiritsugu chanted.

"Time alter, Square Accel!"

He evaded Kirei's punch and kicked his enemy's arm away. Leaping backwards, he flung the dagger at Kirei and it tore through the toughened fabric, stabbing him in the thigh. Kiritsugu used the remains of his quadrupled acceleration to increase the distance between them. Kirei dashed forward, throwing four Black Keys while Kiritsugu reloaded the Contender.

The Black Keys closed in, their tips singing a blood-thirsty melody. The gleaming barrel of the Contender zeroed-in on its fast-approaching target. One would win this battle, and that same one would also die here. This was something both men believed and understood as their weapons concluded their final exchange.

So preoccupied they were in their fight that they failed to notice the anomaly transpiring overhead. With Lancer's victory, the vessel had absorbed the souls of the fifth and sixth servant. From inside the Holy Grail, a reddish-black mud seeped out and filled the cup. The viscid substance overflowed from the Grail, spilling onto the dais and eventually, the auditorium floors. It eroded the ground and flowed deeper still, like a gush of molten lava.

Kiritsugu pulled the trigger of his Contender. In that split second, the two opponents saw only one another before they were drenched in the dirty mud that rained down from above.

**Author's Note: This fight occurred around the same time as Lancer's and Rider's. Also did you see how I used the word 'zeroed-in'? As in Fate Zero? Okay never mind.**

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

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**Chapter Fifteen: Curtain Call**

Something wasn't right. Just a second ago, Kiritsugu had fired a definite kill-shot that would have brought an end to this chaotic bloodbath. His fingers had squeezed the trigger, that he was sure of. So where were the subsequent events that would illustrate that action?

There was no agonizing scream as the bullet landed on its mark, no spurts of vermilion that usually came about with a gunshot wound. Instead, he was standing on a beach. One that he recognized.

The dazzling stars, the wild flowers and the rippling waters of the ocean where he had spent many a day frolicking during his childhood. This place was familiar, and yet foreign at the same time.

Kiritsugu felt the pattering of raindrops in the dark. But they were not the showers of nature which cleansed the earth and nourished its inhabitants. These were the tears of a gathering storm, a reddish-black mud which pelted down upon his skin.

"This is..."  
"I knew you would come." said a voice, the tinkling of crystal bells. 

Kiritsugu turned around, his lifeless eyes meeting those that held the exact opposite, but only a shade of it. Like the ghost of a time gone by.

"I had faith that you would reach this place."  
"Iri..."  
"This is where your wish will be granted. We are inside the Grail you sought."

He saw that in place of the moon, a demonic-looking void resided. Kiritsugu was a realistic man, but if this was the true form of the Holy Grail, then it appeared anything but.

"That is the Grail." spoke Irisviel with a lovely smile. "It has yet to take shape, but the vessel is more than filled. All you need do now, is offer it your prayer. Only then will it be able to go outside. Now, please... Hurry, give it form. Kiritsugu, you are worthy of defining its existence."

Though he had finally arrived at the answer to his prayers, the tranquil smile that Irisviel wore felt out of place. The woman before him seemed more like a shadow of his beloved wife.

"Who are you?"  
"I am Irisviel."  
"No... If the Grail is prepared, then she is already..."

The homunculus closed her eyes and smiled, the way a mother would to her child when asked a complex question, precocity turning up her lips in amusement and joy.

"Answer me!" demanded Kiritsugu, his Contender pointed at the one person he had never risen a hand to.  
"True. I will not deny that this is a mask. Unless I use a pre-existing personality as a shell, I cannot communicate with others. However, the personality of Irsiviel which I recorded is inarguably genuine. Thus, I have inherited her last wish."  
"Are you the will of the Holy Grail?"  
"Yes. That interpretation is not incorrect. I have a will... A wish. The will to be born into this world."

Kiritsugu had lowered his gun, but his brows furrowed deeply in adamant refusal.

"Bakana. In that case, how does the Grail intend to grant my wish?"  
"That is something, Kiritsugu, that you should know better than anyone."  
"What?"  
"You learned how to save the world a long time ago. So I will do as you did. To carry out your will and to answer your prayer."  
"What are you talking about?" asked Kiritsugu, deeply troubled by the cheerful twinkle in Irisviel's eyes. She expressed her exasperation at this unceasing tug of war with a gentle voice.  
"I suppose I have no choice. The only way is to have you ask your inner self."

Irisviel held Kiritsugu's fairly hollowed cheeks in her delicate hands and with one last smile, the world blacked out.

"Where am I?"

Fear and anxiety roiled inside of Kiritsugu. His surroundings had been replaced by a simple hotel room. The television in front of him crackled to life.

"Three hundred on one ship. Two hundred on another."  
"What?" exclaimed Kiritsugu.  
"Five hundred total passengers and crew, including Kiritsugu Emiya. Let's assume that these five hundred and one are humanity's last survivors. Giant holes simultaneously open up in both ships, crippling them. Kiritsugu alone has the skills required to repair a ship."

Before the voice from the television finished, dread caused Kiritsugu to pale. He was finally understanding the game.

"Now then, which ship will you fix?"  
"Obvious, the one with three hundred people."  
"As soon as you make that decision, the two hundred passengers on the other ship take you prisoner and demand that you fix their ship first. So, what will you do?"  
"I-"

Kiritsugu heard the sound of rapid gunfire outside his window. He steeled himself and pulled the blinds aside. But he was far from prepared to witness this sight. As soon as he gasped, the surroundings changed once more and he was onboard a ship—its walls and flooring splattered with burgundy, dead corpses littering the deck where he stood gaping.

Then Kiritsugu found himself in another location. This horrifying chain of events felt like he was being flicked from one channel of a macabre television program to another, his puppet strings manipulated by an unknown force behind invisible curtains, pushing buttons on a remote control.

"Kill all two hundred. Correct. That is what Kiritsugu Emiya would do."

His cellphone rang. Gripping the device, he answered the call.

"Next, the surviving three hundred abandon their damaged craft, split themselves between two new ships and continue their journey."

Kiritsugu turned on his heels and exited the room. If he was to win this gruesome game of chess he would have to regain his bearings. As he listened attentively, his mind slipped into combat mode.

"This time, there are two hundred on one and one hundred on the other. Again, large holes open in the hulls of both ships at the same time."

Kiritsugu twisted the doorknob, the sound of its gears ending with a sinister thunk.

"The hundred in the smaller ship take you prisoner, demanding that you fix their ship first. Now, what will you do?"  
It sounded more like a taunt than a question. Anger and frustration broke through Kiritsugu's composure.  
"You already know. But..."

A jumbled tune of keypads interrupted his reply. He glanced down at the cellphone, its screen showing two words.

**'NO SIGNAL.'**

A high-pitched whine emanated from the device. Kiritsugu was now in the middle of a desolate parking lot. A detonation occurred behind him and he turned to see from his vantage point—overlooking a pier—that a ship had exploded in the distance. His surroundings had changed quicker now; he was at the docking site where Lancer had defeated Saber. A voice rumbled from the dark clouds above.

"Yes, you made the right decision."  
"Bakana! How can that be the right decision?!" Kiritsugu shouted at thin air. "Two hundred survived... But three hundred died so they could live! The scales are tipped the wrong way!"  
"Īe, your calculations were correct. You chose to sacrifice the few to save the many. Isn't that right, Kiritsugu Emiya? You have always chosen to kill those on the lighter side of the scales. Even if it meant leaving a long trail of bodies behind you. If it saved lives, then the lives of those saved must have been worth more."

Kiritsugu gritted his teeth in resentment, standing once again on the shores of the beach.

"This is what you wanted to show me?"  
"Yes. This is your truth. The answer that lies within Kiritsugu Emiya. In other words, the course of action that should be carried out by the Holy Grail as an omnipotent wish-granter."  
"No... This isn't what I want! I want there to be another way! How the hell can you call this a miracle?!"  
"But it is. The deed that you tried and failed to do on your own can now be accomplished on a scale beyond the power of any man. If that is not a miracle, what is?"

Kiritsugu did a one-eighty, drawing his gun as he went. Now he was inside a warmly-lit room, facing his father. A bullet sailed through the air and punctured the flesh between his eyes. Then he felt a familiar presence.

"Natalia!"

The echo of another expert kill bounced off the walls of the residence. Next, he felt the earth rise and fall beneath him. No, it wasn't the earth. He was seated in a boat afloat at sea.

"Kiritsugu Emiya, you truly are Angra Mainyu. The one worthy to bear all the evil in the world. Now, the final question."  
Maiya Hisau, Irisviel and Illyasviel appeared before him.  
"Three remain."

Rising from the ground with a dagger in his hand, he strode towards them.  
"Will you save two? Or choose one?"  
Kiritsugu swallowed hard before stabbing the dark-haired woman. 

"Okaerinasai, Kiritsugu!" said a child's voice, ebullient.

He saw his wife and daughter, the latter clambering forth from a plush four-poster bed to embrace him.

"You're finally back!" the little girl giggled, jumping into her father's arms and wrapping hers around his neck. The beautiful woman seated on the edge of the bed spoke.  
"You understand now, don't you? This is the Holy Grail granting your prayer. All you need do now is to wish for it."

The falling snow outside had turned to black, like a swarm of locusts seeking to penetrate the glass. But what covered the windows and darkened the room were not ravenous insects, it was the bloody mud of the Holy Grail. Unperturbed, the woman continued.

"To bring back your wife. To take back your daughter."

Kiritsugu gazed out the windowpanes, his eyes distant and filled with sorrow.

"I won't be able to go looking for chestnuts with you anymore."  
Illya paid no mind to his solemn and ambiguous murmur, giving him a cheerful reply.  
"It's okay. I'm happy, as long as you and okaasama are together with me."  
"Arigato... Otōsan loves you too, Illya. If nothing else, I swear that to be true."

The young girl stared at her father in confusion, something cold and hard beneath her chin.

"Sayonara, Illya."

One gunshot, and the sound of a small body tumbling to the floor.

"ILLYA! Illya, Illya, Illya..." the mother's screams turned to whimpers as she crawled towards the ground.  
"Dōshite?! Why would you do this?!" she was on her knees, pulling at the ends of Kiritsugu's coat. "Anata, you killed our Illya!"  
In one swift movement, his fingers wrapped tightly around her neck.  
"A-Anata... D-Dōshite? Why do you refuse us? Refuse us and the Grail?"

Kiritsugu's hand pressed down more forcefully. Before it had been impossible, but now, his beloved wife and daughter's demise were necessary. Even as a shadow, the emotions she displayed were without a doubt, those that the bonafide Irisviel would have bore. This wasn't real. He had to remind himself of that. It was the only thought that granted him the strength to do what came next.

"Six billion people..."  
"I curse you, Kiritsugu... Emiya."  
"Against two family members..."  
"Angra Mainyu curses you..."

Irisviel's large ruby eyes, which had always looked upon her husband with admiration and adoration, were now stained by unfathomable loath and anger.

"I... I..."  
"Suffer... Suffer until the day you die."  
"I will kill you... And save the world."

The tears brimming in Kiritsugu's empty eyes ran down his face, mingling with the bloodstains of his daughter. A snap of trachea echoed in the now empty room—a sickening last musical note to this nightmare he had endured.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

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**Chapter Sixteen: Life in the Midst of Death**

Kirei Kotomine had woken from a dream. Or in his case, a miracle. One eye was bloodshot and the other was submerged in the now diluted mud of the Holy Grail.

Lying prostrate in the murky pool, he heard the click of a gun. Kirei smiled bitterly, recollection of his whereabouts and the realization of his dilemma coming back to him as he brought himself up to his knees.

How laughable it was, that he should have devoted all his strength and cunning to defeating the enemy, only for the victor to be determined by who arose first.

"What a boring conclusion." droned the priest, sounding very much like one Babylonian ruler. "Why did you refuse it?"  
"You saw it as well?"  
"I thought you sacrificed everything you had to make it this far. How can you deny the worth of something you worked so hard to attain? It's so foolish, I cannot understand it."  
"Its cost is greater than any benefit it offers. That's all. That thing is no omnipotent wish-granter."

Kirei's icy composure cracked, revealing the desperate and ravenous beast within.

"Then give it to me! You may not need it, but I do!"

His ferocity changed into something else. A pleading tone, as though begging for his own child to be spared.

"If it... If it is given life, then it can certainly answer my every doubt. It longs for a life of its own! For its own birth! Please, don't kill it! That's-"

Forbidden to even turn around, the priest was down on his knees, imploring fervently. But the assassin cut him off with the help of his weapon. Wisps of smoke surfaced from the scorching barrel, the man who held it however, was cold and hollow.

"No, you are so foolish that I can't understand you."

With a bullet fired at point-blank range, Kiritsugu had shot out Kirei Kotomine's heart. When his body hit the ground, there was no longer any difference from the blood that poured out of his wound and the one that he lay in.

Diarmuid limped through the corridors of the municipal hall. Arriving at his destination, he pushed the doors with his good arm. They groaned under the force but swung open in one smooth arc to reveal their grandest performer. Diarmuid felt his breath hitch.

"We made it."

The vessel—suspended in mid-air—took center-stage in the music hall. It was almost a mirage, too good to be true. The sands of the battlefield had been soiled by the blood of his comrades as well as his enemies. Right before Diarmuid's very eyes, was the cup from which he would 'drink' and at last, fulfill the wishes of his current master and the one before him.

Afraid that it would disappear all of a sudden, Diarmuid hastily descended the steps, ignoring the pain from his wounds.

He was halfway down the stairs when he noticed a second figure in the hall. The stranger was two floors up, on the other end of the auditorium. The figure stepped out from the shadows and Diarmuid recognized him as Kiritsugu Emiya.

"Waga aruji!" he cried, hope in his golden eyes as he knelt down in reverence. "The rest of the servants have been defeated, victory is ours."

Diarmuid awaited his master's response. Kiritsugu raised his right hand, revealing the scarlet markings on the back.

"In the name of Kiritsugu Emiya, I order you with my first command seal..."

His low voice shook Diarmuid's body, the knight gazed up at his master now. He felt something was amiss but he couldn't determine what exactly.

"Lancer, use your Noble Phantasm... To destroy the Grail."

Diarmuid gasped. The silken string of his weapons unwrapped themselves, activating their power for the destructive blow.

"Master, what are you doing?!"  
"By my second command seal, I order you again. Lancer, destroy the Grail."  
"No! Why, master? You, of all people... Why?!"

Even after two command seals, Lancer was still putting up a fight. So Kiritsugu did the only thing left to do.

"With my final command seal, I order you once more to use your Noble Phantasm..."

Using his last vestiges of strength, Diarmuid forced his spears into submission. He was struggling, physically and mentally. His own weapons were turning against him.

"STOP!"  
"Lancer... Destroy the Holy Grail."

Diarmuid's legs ran towards the Grail, his two spears omitting massive amounts of prana. His mortal injuries were now mere scratches in comparison to the torment he felt inside.

On any other day, he would have been glad. Glad to enter the battlefield with the power of his master fortifying his.

On any other day, he would have been able to control his movements. He would have possessed the freedom to do battle in whatever fashion he deemed fit.

On any other day, he would not be screaming like a tortured man as he obliterated the one thing he had shed blood, sweat and tears to obtain.

The released energy from his spears pierced the floating Grail, causing it to lose its shape. Diarmuid stared at the wish-granter, horrified.

He couldn't understand. Why?

In the golden light, he saw Eritrea with a broken-hearted smile as her fingers reached out to touch his face.

" _You see... I was right..._ "

In the end, the power of the command seals was absolute, and try as he might with all his strength, no swiftness would ever triumph over that.

_How could I hope to know a man from three command seals alone? I never even knew the hearts of my brothers who fought with me more closely than_ _anyone else._

His last hope had been destroyed, and by his own hand. How could he continue to look upon this tragic scene when now, he would not be able to even look _her_ in the eye? Diarmuid's eyelids fluttered close.

_Perhaps all this... Was a punishment laid upon a knight who failed to protect his master._

He was so close to achieving his goal, so close to wiping away the stain of his mistakes—past and present. He had come so far, only to fall short at the very end. Except this time, it was not the servant who had shown a betrayal of trust, but the master.

The sheer force of Diarmuid's Noble Phantasm blew apart the ceiling and split the building in two. The roof caved in like an avalanche of concrete and metal.

Through the debris, Kiritsugu saw it. The infernal hole he had seen in the Grail was situated in the night sky. The cursed mud of Angra Mainyu poured out like a fiery waterfall and submerged the ground floors of the auditorium.

Kiritsugu had watched the proceedings from a safe distance. The sea of mud beneath him devoured everything in its way, flowing out the building and spreading towards the districts within reach. What had hitherto been a wish-granting device, was now a tool for massacre.

"Impossible... It's impossible!"

Kiritsugu ran out of the building and onto the streets. There, a monstrous fire had roared to life, its flames voraciously licking the ground and consuming all forms of life. He screamed and turned in frantic circles. Searching for someone, anyone.

He lifted the burnt rubble. The searing pain branded his palms but he paid no heed to it. The world was burning around him, and he was powerless to stop it. All he could do was watch as the fires took away the very lives he had sworn to protect.

Kiritsugu bent down to pick up a body, a possible survivor. But the moment his calloused fingers touched the figure, it crumbled into ash.

Kiritsugu stared at his palms. The hands that were suppose to carry an immeasurable burden for the salvation of others, had brought death and despair instead. Tears streamed down his face and though his throat felt like rusted nails he released a devastated cry.

On the face of a rock, another man opened his eyes.

"Where am I?"

He smelled ash in the air, and heard the crackling of fire. Getting up, he saw a blazing inferno that seemed to choke the night air. He was alive.

"Masaka."

 _And yet..._  
He place one hand over his chest, then gasped.  
 _I have no heartbeat. Did the Grail grant me life?_

Accepting this conclusion, he laughed maniacally, psychotic satisfaction in his eyes.

_No, I'm not satiated just yet. This isn't enough. My life of questions has found its answer. But the problem-solving process itself was skipped over, and I was simply handed the solution. How am I to accept this? I must question. I must search. I must use the rest of my life to understand it. Angra Mainyu... I will reach it again, and next time, I will see it to the end._

Just before Kirei Kotomine turned to leave, he spotted another silhouette on the other side of this crimson hell.

 _Kiritsugu Emiya?_  
Amidst the dancing tongues of flame, their eyes met _._  
 _I accept your challenge._

But the man simply broke his gaze and continued sifting through the rubble, as if in search for something. Kirei realized that his enemy's eyes were vacant, like a body devoid of its soul.

The Magus Killer no longer moved with the precision and certainty of a trained assassin. Instead, he wandered the burning streets like an aimless sleepwalker.

Kiritsugu had become a walking corpse, no longer worthy of being treated as an opponent. If he persisted this foolish and crazed attempt to look for survivors, he would surely perish in the flames. This person was of no more importance to Kirei, so he left.

Somewhere amidst the ruins, a teenage boy with ginger hair had his hand stretched out above him in a cry for help to the Heavens. His breaths were shallow, asphyxiated from being deprived of oxygen for so long.

Before he dropped his arm, another reached for it, holding it with greater care than a diamond in the rubble. As his savior crouched before him, the befuddled teenager had never been able to think more clearly.

_He looks so happy. As though it is him, and not me, who is being saved. 'Thank you.' he says. That he was glad he found someone. That by saving even one person, he had saved himself._

"He's alive... He's alive... He's alive." cried Kiritsugu, clasping the teenage boy's hand to his tear-stained face. For the first time in his life, he had saved the few instead of the many. And that, was more than enough.

After the incident, Kiritsugu visited the Einzberns many times. But as he had not returned with the Grail, Jubstacheit didn't open the forest's barrier. He never saw Illya again.

However, Illya would be the final person he would lose. Kiritsugu's life was meant to be one solely of loss, and it would have been had he not adopted Shirou—the boy he saved that day.

The man who had lost his daughter was once again a father. The boy whose parents had perished in the fires was once again a son.

Today, Shirou was moving his belongings, assisted by his step-father as they entered the traditional Japanese mansion where they would now reside.

Kiritsugu fumbled with the keys, straining under the weight of his load. The war had left an emotional, psychological and physical effect on him, aging him with rapid succession. His only saving grace was the ginger-haired teenager beside him.

"I'll get it, Pops." smiled the boy, taking the keys from Kiritsugu's hands. The door opened with ease and warm sunlight filtered through.

The pair walked in, one eager to see his new home, the other relieved he could come back alive. An unexpected guest sat seiza-style on the floors. The stranger made the first move.

"Okaerinasai,"

They tilted their head, smirking.

"Ojisan."

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

****

**Book One: Epilogue**

"Y-You. You're-" stuttered the ginger.  
"If you've got something to say, spit it out."  
"I knocked into you once some time back. I think you fell and dropped your groceries."  
"Oh, so you're 'ran-without-his-eyes-open-jackass'."  
"I'm really sorry about that, I'd have stayed behind to help you but I was chasing a snatch thief."  
"For all the trouble you caused at least tell me you got him."  
"Heh, I did..." answered Shirou, smiling bashfully.

All Kiritsugu managed to say was...

"How?"

The stranger looked at him, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. She turned to the boy.

"What's your name, mate?"  
"E-Emiya, Shirou Emiya."  
"Well make yourself at home, I need to speak with Mr. Kiritsugu."

 **In another room.**  
"You died. I saw it."  
"I've been sent back, until my task is finished."  
"I destroyed the Holy Grail, at a great cost but... It's over."  
"The fact that I'm standing before you proves otherwise, I'm here to prepare myself for the imminent battle."

Kiritsugu stared at his palms, gradually acknowledging the truth.

"You want me to train you?"  
"If you're still capable of that."

Eritrea paused to observe her uncle.

"Tell me what happened. And why does that child share your last name?"

The disaster he had caused, the despair he felt and the subsequent relief when he found one person alive came to mind. Kiritsugu went on to elucidate the aftermath of the battle, Kirei's death and the adoption of the child he rescued.

"I deduced that the Grail was not properly destroyed because Lancer's Noble Phantasm wasn't anti-fortress, as opposed to Saber's. Therefore its annihilation was incomplete, resulting in the massive fires."  
"If you couldn't save the world, why didn't you simply wish for the end of the Grail War?"  
"...I couldn't risk it. I just couldn't."

 _What had he seen in the Grail that compelled him to make such a decision?_ she wondered.

"At least the Executor is dead." said Eritrea, filling the silence.

She narrowed her gaze on Kiritsugu but once again was unable to read the man. Having concluded it a fruitless exercise, she got up and dusted herself off.

"I want to tell him everything." said Kiritsugu, his eyes fixed on the wooden floorboards. Eritrea turned around.  
"He is the one good thing that came out of this war, I don't want to keep any more secrets."  
"So be it."

The teenage girl was about to leave the room, but she wanted the answer to one more question.

"Why did you change your last name?"  
"I had to blend in with the natives."  
He paused, "And you were the last descendant of your family. I couldn't lead danger to your doorstep."

_So he did care for me._

Like a gust of passing wind, her emotions were stowed away in an instant.

"Look alive uncle, first impressions are crucial. We're going to introduce myself to my new cousin."

After a detailed explanation of their identities and the Holy Grail Wars, Shirou chuckled.

"So, running into you back then and talking to you right now... I guess it was fate."

Eritrea herself was admittedly astounded. Of all the people she could have stumbled into in Fuyuki City, it had been Kiritsugu's future adopted son. And on the very same day she met her beloved Sensei.

Little did she know, Shirou Emiya still had a part left to play before all this was over. Though Eritrea believed that destiny resided in the eyes of certain people, her naturally independent self was convinced that sometimes, she made her own path.

She scoffed at the teenager before her.

"Fate? Ridiculous."

But part of her concurred with his opinion.

 **Five** **months later.**  
"You'll have to go back to school next year. You managed to skip one whole semester because the administration thought you were still studying in Karakura. Would you like to tell me why you were playing truant?"  
"Oh, I don't know, maybe it was because I was involved in a war." retorted Eritrea, ever sarcastic. "Even after that I didn't see the point in going back for five more months. Besides, I think I've done rather well on my own, the mansion has an extensive library."  
"At least finish your final year in a proper curriculum. Anyway, I need you to look after him. Make sure he doesn't become like me."

Eritrea gave her uncle a pensive glance.

_I will. That's a promise._

"If I get killed trying to balance my studies _and_ survive the Holy Grail War I will personally come back for you and skin you alive."

Kiritsugu chuckled, a rare sight.

"Then we better make sure you win."

_To Be Continued._


	18. Chapter 18

****

**Book Two: Prologue**

As the months went by, I did forgive him. He didn't expect it. All he wanted was to atone for the time he never gave to me.

"Your aim is even better than mine now." chuckled the man, creases in the corners of his eyes.

He turns around and calls to a ginger-haired boy, "Shirou! Would you like to go a few rounds?"

From a far corner, someone shouts, "No thanks, Pops! I really don't like guns."

There are white strands in his ebony hair. Kiritsugu has aged. Rapidly. As if all the anguish and guilt he kept inside was hurrying him to his grave.

A coughing fit seizes him. I hold him, expressing my concern.  
"Ojisan."

He smiles, reassuring me. But I know better.  
"Looks like you'll have to protect him from now on, eh?"

I smile in return, a silent yes.

A tall female stood facing a headstone after placing fresh flowers in a vase. It was drizzling and the graveyard was devoid of other visitors. She closed her eyes, allowing her thoughts to resonate within her mind.

_The time that you spent with me, despite its brevity was, is, one that I will always cherish._

A single voice declared in the pattering of the rain.

"Arigatō gozaimasu,

                                            Ojisan."

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter One: Something Old, Something New**

"I still can't believe I have to come to this hellhole every day." murmured the seventeen year old as she stood at the gates of Homurahara Academy.

It had been two weeks since the passing of her uncle. Today was Shirou's first day at the educational institution and Eritrea's return to her former high school.

"Cheer up, cousin! High school is supposed to be the best time of our teenage years." beamed a ginger-haired boy before walking ahead.  
"This is bullshit." said Eritrea, looking at her surroundings. Then she remembered the promise she made to Kiritsugu before his death and sighed, casting her eyes to the heavens.

_God help me._

"I heard we're getting a new student!"  
"Really? I heard that a former student has come back!"

Throughout all the excitement, two blond boys sat at the back of the classroom, one had his curiosity piqued while the other remained totally disinterested. Their bubbly teacher, Fujimura Sensei, came crashing in.

"Ohayo, class! We have a new student joining us today. Come in!"

A ginger-haired boy walked in with a pleasant smile on his face. 

"My name is Shirou Emiya, yoroshiku." said the boy, making a small bow.

There were a few audible giggles from the girls.

"Be sure to make him feel at home."  
Fujimura Sensei then glanced down at her clipboard.  
"And we have one more on the list."

Shirou spun around, having just realized that his cousin was not behind him.

"Gomen-ne." said a female voice.

As the stranger strode into the classroom, there were more gasps, both male and female. The two blond boys at the back nearly sprang forward from their seats.

"I was admiring the scenery."  
"You still haven't changed, Eritrea-san." beamed the teacher.

Shirou breathed a sigh of relief, then shook his head, smiling. His cousin was particularly fond of nature, and today she nearly missed her class because of that. The comeback student bowed to her classmates.

"Eritrea Yunani. Konnichiwa."

Eritrea _had_ been enjoying the scenery. However, that was just one side of it. In reality, she had a slight taste for the melodramatic. So she took her time getting to class, just so she could make a proper entrance.

Before she left Homurahara Academy to train with Lady Olivier, Eritrea was a fairly popular student. Most people found her silence intimidating, some thought it was arrogance. But Eritrea was simply selectively-social. She didn't see the point in having hundreds of acquaintances, and no friends.

The only people she had allowed into her circle were Alphonse and Edward Elric. The Elric brothers themselves had a mysterious past, one that involved alchemy and human transmutation. But that's another story.

The lessons continued as per normal and before long the lunch bell rang, signaling the recess period. The two blond boys from earlier made their way towards Eritrea. She got up from her seat and gave them a welcoming embrace.

"Hisashiburi dana, Eritrea." smiled Edward.  
"Indeed. It's good to see you both again."  
"We missed you while you were gone! Why didn't you tell us you were coming back?" asked Alphonse.

Eritrea felt a pang of guilt. She was so caught up with the last war that she had completely forgotten about her friends.

"Where's the fun in that? You should have seen your faces when I walked in."

The three shared a hearty chuckle, reminiscent of the good times they shared before Eritrea went away. When school finished, Eritrea waited patiently by the gates for her cousin. Minutes later, Shirou came running up to her, stopping to catch his breath.

"What happened? You look like you just ran a marathon."  
"Sorry I'm late, neesan. I was held up by some girls."

Though they were cousins and of the same age, Shirou had always looked up to Eritrea as his elder sister. Notably after his stepfather's death, he felt that she had taken on the side of him he never got to witness. Sometimes, he saw a bit of Kiritsugu in her eyes. In that watchful, perceptive gaze she had.

"Popular with the ladies I see." grinned Eritrea as they walked home.  
"It was just three of them, it's really nothing." answered Shirou, blushing from embarrassment.  
When they arrived at the Japanese mansion, Shirou waved goodbye to his cousin.  
"See you tomorrow!"  
She smiled and waved, then turned in the other direction.

Eritrea had insisted that they live in separate residences so as not to drag her cousin into the coming battle. For his safety, Shirou should stay in the mansion his father left behind while she returned to her own.

After toiling through her homework, Eritrea went to the indoor gym for a night workout. During her pull-ups, she thought back to the time she had woken up from the clutches of death in her Father's arms.

_"Remember that bible verse, my child. Even throughout the battle."_

Those were His final words to her before sending her back. On the fifth pull-up, she heard a loud crash from the floor above. Grabbing her dual katanas, she towards the noise.

Eritrea burst open the door to find a tall man with white hair sitting on a pile of overturned furniture like it was a throne. She set aside her weapons for she was not in any danger. Due to the outpouring of spiritual energy from this stranger, she knew that her servant had arrived.

"No rest for the weary, eh?" she muttered to herself.

Eritrea always anticipated that there was the off-chance Diarmuid wouldn't come back to aid her in this war. But the weight of the truth never quite settles until it's right in front of you.

Though he was positive that this young lady standing before him was his master, he had to do one more thing to be sure. Without getting up from his seat, he spoke.

"Isaiah chapter forty verse twenty-nine."  
Her footsteps came nearer.  
"He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless."

"It seems you are my master. Yet I see you don't possess the three command seals."  
"Our contract is held together by the power of the High King I serve. Thus the source of my strength does not come from magic but from the Lord."  
"That _is_ what the angel mentioned when he came to me. Then again, even if you had the command seals, they would do nothing to prove your authority as a master. Not that the bible verse did anything to change that."  
"What are you implying? You demanded the verse and I answered correctly. That's all the evidence you need to confirm that I am your master."  
"You're not serious? It wasn't the verse I wished to hear. I wanted to confirm whether you are someone worthy of my loyalty."

The gentleman or in Eritrea's point of view, the asshole, got off his makeshift throne and walked towards her.

"Are you saying I'm not good enough to be your master?"  
"Īe. I am utterly dissatisfied, but I do acknowledge you as my master. But on one condition. In the war to come, I will disregard everything you say. I alone will decide all battle policy. I trust you have no objection, young lady."  
"Naruhodo. You'll grudgingly acknowledge me but you'll pay no heed to my opinions? What's that supposed to mean? You are my servant, aren't you?"  
"Yes, but only in form. So I will obey you in form alone. But when fighting, I'll be the one to call the shots."

The man didn't even bother to look at her anymore.

"I suggest you hide in a cellar or something until this war is over. That should keep even one as inexperienced as you alive. Of course, I have nothing but respect for your office. After all, I was summoned to attain victory for my master. My victory is your victory, and I will yield any spoils of the battle to you. So leave everything to me and see to your own wellbeing. I don't expect anything from you."

Any other person might have strangled him by now. But Eritrea exhaled silently, a portent her servant had failed to notice, much less react to. Before he could make another snarky remark, the seventeen year old grabbed him by the neck and flung him into the wall.

After being trained by one Sensei, Eritrea was good. Having been mentored by a second one, she was even better. A servant's reflexes were excellent and he would have been able to dodge the attack had he not kept his back towards her in a manner of insolence and excessive underestimation. The force of her throw combined with his heft created a giant spiderweb of cracks on the wall upon impact.

"I'm not asking you to bow down in submission, but you'd do well to remember your manners when you speak with me. Get up, let's take this elsewhere." said Eritrea.

Too stunned for words, the gentleman peeled himself off the wall and followed his master. Perhaps he had made a grave mistake in belittling her so much.

Truth be told, she didn't mind his lack of propriety. What ticked her off was his unwillingness to cooperate. This would undoubtedly get in the way of completing her Father's work, and she would not allow that to happen.

"I believe I have a fair understanding of your disposition now, master."  
"Listen well. This task ahead of me, ahead of us, is of the utmost importance. I will not fail again. You don't have to address me as your master provided I have a say in our plans. Don't allow your insubordination to result in our defeat."  
"I admit that I miscalculated."  
"What?"  
"I retract my earlier statements, master." said the man, finally addressing her with an honorific. "You may be young in years but there is undeniably great strength within you. I was mistaken in looking down on you as a child and trying to keep you from fighting."

The servant place one arm across his chest and bowed.

"I apologize for my poor judgement and manners."  
"Apology accepted. Have you finally decided to acknowledge me as your partner?"  
"Of course."  
"About damn time. Now then, which class of servant are you?"  
"I am a servant of the Archer class."  
"I see."

_Lancer..._

"Pardon me for not being Lancer."  
Eritrea had voiced her thoughts by accident and the servant heard her.  
"No, it's just that in the last war my servant was a Lancer. Familiarity and all."

A sneaky idea sparked in her eyes.

"Now that I think about it, you don't look as strong as he was. Can the Archer class even stand on equal footing with the Lancers?"  
"I'll make you rue those words. And when the day comes, apologize all you want. I won't forgive you."  
"Then you'd better follow through on that promise, Archer. When you do, I'll see that you accept my apology."

Eritrea saw a small smile on her servant's face, one that looked so much like Diarmuid when she had challenged his strength. And for a moment, her heart broke a little.

"Very well. Don't forget that, master."

Under the light of the moon, Eritrea saw that her new servant's eyes were a sleek grey, the opposite of Diarmuid's rich, golden ones. His white hair was also another obvious contrast to the raven locks of her chivalrous knight. She smiled at him and thought to herself.

_Let's see how this one turns out._

 

**Author's Note: In this sequel, Shirou and Archer will be two separate individuals.**


	20. Chapter 20

****

**Chapter Two: Relatively Involved**

_Where am I?_ _Where's mom and dad?_   
_Fire. Everything's burning. It's night time, I think. There's too much smoke to be sure._   
_I can't breathe._   
_Where am I?_

"Another nightmare?"

Shirou opened his eyes to see his neesan sitting on the edge of a table, concern hidden in her brows. He felt that he should tell a white lie to assuage her worries but he didn't get the chance.

"It's alright, I have vivid dreams too. Though they're more strange than disturbing. Here, I brought breakfast."

Eritrea bent down to Shirou's level, holding up a container of food.

"Salmon, brown rice and mixed vegetables. Eat up and get ready, don't want to be late for school, do we?"   
"Hai. Thank you, neesan. I'm sorry I made you worry."  
"Shinpai shinaide, it's part of my job." smiled Eritrea before closing the door of the workshop behind her.

"Ohayo, class! Since Kuzuki Sensei is absent today, you get to spend a free period in the library!" beamed Fujimura Sensei.

Most of the students groaned. If they were going to have a free period they would've preferred to pass the time gossiping instead of reading. But to Eritrea and her close friends, silence and a good book were far more welcoming than the clamour of shallow speech.

Just when Eritrea was getting to a climatic point of the novel in her hand, someone pulled out the chair next to her.

"Long time no see, Eritrea."  
"If only it stayed that way a little longer." replied the girl, not bothering to look up.

As if encouraged by her caustic remark, the boy sat down to continue.

"Oh come on, don't be so mean."  
Edward glared at the newcomer. "Leave her alone, Shinji."

Shinji leaned back in his chair and sneered at him.  
"I wasn't talking to you, butt out."  
Edward clenched his fist, giving a low growl. Eritrea placed her hand on his.  
"Ochitsuke. I'll be fine." she murmured.

"Back to where we were, why don't you and I go out on a date?"  
"Not interested."  
"I like it when you play hard to get, but don't you think you've done that long enough?"  
"Playing hard to get? I _am_ hard to get. Ed, Al, let's go."  
"Don't you dare ignore me, Eritrea."

But that's exactly what she did. The brothers walked in front of her, all three of them with their backs to Shinji as they headed for the door. He blew a fuse and grabbed Eritrea's shoulder, one hand raised up high and aimed at her face.

She caught his hand, contorting the fingers until he fell on his knees. With a deadpan voice, she warned.

"The next time you raise a hand to me, will be the last time you have hands."

All their classmates were watching them now. The librarian would have asked Eritrea to release her grip but you didn't need a rocket scientist to tell you that was a bad idea. Alphonse smiled lightly at the frightened lady and apologized before the trio exited the library.

The pain was unbelievable, only further humiliation had prevented Shinji from screaming. Little did he know, Eritrea had gone easy on him.

Archer had witnessed the entire exchange in his incorporeal form. He was tempted to materialize right there and then just to punch the punk in his face. But Archer held back because he felt that his master was more than capable of handling this fight. He was right.

Since the library was divided into two sections, Shirou had been on the other side and thus was unaware of the commotion. Before he left for the next period, a female classmate approached him.

"Shirou, your cousin is really scary. If I didn't know better I'd say Shinji pissed his pants earlier. Anyway, see you back in class!"  
"What?"

But she didn't hear him. Shirou glanced at Shinji who was fuming in the corner and rubbing his injured hand. He saw red marks on his palm and wondered.

_Neesan_ _?_

On their way home, Shirou decided to ask Eritrea about what transpired during free period.

"Oh, him? Shinji was about to slap me after I rejected him for the umpteenth time."  
"Slap you?! That vile-"  
"Shirou, calm down. I'm your neesan, who do you think you're talking to?" grinned Eritrea.

She was right. Shirou's cousin was definitely able to fend for herself. If there was anyone he should have been worried about, it was Shinji.

"So dai yo." smiled Shirou. "Ja, see you tomorrow!"

It had been a week since Archer became Eritrea's servant. The two had gotten off on the wrong foot at first but after getting to know each other better, discovered that they were in many ways alike.

Archer respected her strength and character, Eritrea enjoyed his sarcasm and wit. It was completely different from the relationship she shared with Diarmuid.

With Diarmuid it had been affectionate, courteous and at the very end, painful. When it came to Archer, Eritrea felt like she was going toe-to-toe with an older male version of herself. Once, after one of his usual sardonic remarks, Eritrea rested her forehead against her hand.

"So this must be what it's like to be friends with me." she sighed.

But after that she chuckled. Archer was the exact opposite of Diarmuid, yet she found their connection was to her liking.

Since the gentleman first crash-landed in Eritrea's mansion, he had not been engaged in a single battle other than the ones he had with his master during their training sessions. But that didn't count.

"Master, shouldn't we be looking for opponents?" said Archer, watching his master complete her homework. This subtle approach still couldn't hide his irritation from Eritrea.   
"You came with me to school, didn't you? I wouldn't consider that being cooped up."  
"We should be out there hunting the other servants. Isn't that the point of my being here?"  
"Well, sorry for pursuing my education. I like a good fight too but as you can see I've been busy."  
"At least take a walk. It'll do us both some good."  
"Fine, fine. Get out of my face and wait by the door before I change my mind."

As they wandered the streets at night in search of an enemy servant, a cooling breeze swept past them, carrying a few dried leaves towards the sky. Eritrea's eyes followed their ascent and she realized that a full moon was out tonight. She was reminded of the first time she had shown Diarmuid around the city.

Wistfully, she glanced at the man walking beside her and saw that the shafts of moonlight illuminated his eyes. Eritrea had always admired beauty, inanimate or otherwise. Archer's eyes had an arresting silver colour which caused her to look a little longer than what was deemed socially appropriate.

"Ara... I know I'm attractive but you don't have to stare, master."   
"It's not what you think, fool. I just like beautiful things. I've never seen an eye colour like yours before."

Before Archer could respond a burst of pure energy hit them like a tidal wave. It was without a doubt, a servant's spiritual aura. Eritrea noticed their surroundings and her face blanched in dread.

_It's near the Japanese mansion._ _Shirou_ _!_

"Eritrea, wait! I sense a servant's presence nearby!"

But she paid no mind to her servant. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead and the image of Lady Olivier came to her mind as she sprinted down the path.

_I'm not losing my family again._

She turned a corner and was about to reach the residence when Archer appeared right in front of her, his dual swords blocking a strike from another weapon. Eritrea fell back and for once she got a good look at the opponent. The teenager was in for another surprise.

"Saber?"  
"...Kiritsugu's niece?"

Eritrea stood up and directed her attention to her servant.

"Archer, stand down."  
"Are you out of your mind? This is an enemy servant, Eritrea!"  
"It's not my first apocalyptic bloodbath, don't worry. I know her, she won't hurt us. Stand down."

Archer grudgingly complied, but kept his swords up just in case.

"That energy from before, it was you."  
"Yes, I've just been summoned."  
Eritrea's surprise quickly changed to hope.  
"If you're back then maybe Lancer..."

"MATTE!!!"

The trio looked behind to find a ginger-haired boy running towards them.

 _"Who's this bumbling idiot?"_ thought Archer.  
 _"My cousin. And you're not exactly in any position to speak."_ countered Eritrea.

Saber faced the newcomer, "Master, I followed the enemy servant's presence here but I found someone familiar instead. We were just conversing."  
"Master?" interrupted Eritrea. "Shirou, don't tell me-"  
"I'm sorry, neesan. It appears I am. She materialized when I was practicing my reinforcement magecraft."  
"...I see."

Eritrea was afraid that this would happen, but if in the one in a million chance it did, she had a plan.

"Let's go back to Shirou's mansion first. There are things we need to discuss."

**Author's Note: '** **Shinpai** **shinaide** **' means don't worry about it.**   
**'** **Ochitsuke** **' means calm down.**   
**'So** **dai** **yo' means that's right.** **  
**

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

****

**Chapter Three: A Distant Cousin**

Minutes into their discussion and things had already heated up. Eritrea demanded that Shirou give up his servant and status as a master, that she would take over in his stead. She was actually capable of forming a pact with one more servant, albeit by following procedures that were different from those who used magic.

Shirou however, had defied his neesan, arguing that he wanted to fight this battle, that he had a right to his own decisions. And if he continued as Saber's master, then she wouldn't need to bear the strain of supporting two servants. Eritrea was adamant about his non-involvement, but the strategist within her agreed with him.

So here she was, torn between the promise she made to his father, and the one she made to hers. Saber was a valuable asset. If Eritrea chose to form an alliance with her cousin instead of taking her on by herself, it would be a tremendous relief. But in the end she passed it up. Eritrea could not make this sort of gamble, not with someone else's life.

_I will find another way. If He has brought me to it, He will bring me through it._

"My decision is final. You are to break the pact with Saber and no longer be a participant of the Holy Grail Wars."  
"But-"  
"I made a promise to your father, Shirou Emiya. And I intend to keep it. You will squander the command seals right now, rendering the contract null and void. Then you'll stay with me so I can keep a close watch over you."

In the event that a participant of the Holy Grail War decided to relinquish their right as a master, they could sever ties with their servant and seek refuge in Fuyuki Church. But if Eritrea sent her cousin there, she may as well have thrown him into the lion's den. Though Kirei was dead and his father, Risei, had taken over as the moderator, she knew better than to trust him.

"If I participate in this war, Saber and I could help you win!"  
"You don't understand. To win, Archer would have to eliminate her."  
"We can still form a temporary alliance. At least think about it."

Eritrea was still pondering that very conversation on her way to school. The cousins usually walked there together, but Eritrea had asked for time and space to consider her final decision.

In the centre of the courtyard, she saw Shirou waving goodbye to a blonde girl at the gates. She was dressed in the clothing Eritrea kept at the Emiya residence in case she decided to stay over.

 _His spiritual aura is so weak that Saber can't even dematerialize_.

Eritrea turned on her heels and headed for class. However, the moment she did a burst of energy spread throughout the atmosphere. This one wasn't pure like Saber's. It smothered like a lurking shadow—dark, scheming and unpleasant.

 _"Master,_ _doshta_ _?"_ asked Archer, using the telepathic link.  
 _"This energy... I think a magic field has been established within the school. It's incomplete, but preparations are well underway."_  
 _"What do we do?"_  
 _"We'll come back at night to check it out."_ said Eritrea.  
 _"For someone to act so brazenly, that person is either a force to be reckoned with or a complete amateur."_  
 _"Amateur or not, we must be on our guard."_  
 _"Agreed."_

School carried on without any peculiarities and when nightfall came, Eritrea had traced the field's origin point to the building's rooftops. Archer remained incorporeal as he spoke to his master.

"This type of field, once activated will cause every human inside it to dissolve. It's soul-eating magic. A fortress that dissolves human bodies within the field and harvests the souls that ooze out."  
"Delightful. I'm assuming the souls harvested are for a servant's consumption?"  
"Correct. Just as humans partake in meat for nourishment, servants consume minds and souls. The more we ingest, the more mana we can store."  
"Don't masters usually supply adequate amounts of mana?"  
"Yes, but more is always better. In that sense, this field is highly efficient."

Eritrea bent low to take a better look at the marking.  
"I don't practice magic, so I can't remove it or throw a spanner in the works. Our only option is to prepare ourselves when they strike."

"Are you going to erase that?" asked a voice from up above. Eritrea turned around to face the stranger. Seeing the long, red spear in the servant's grasp, she chuckled.   
"Today's just not my day, eh?"  
"That's right." answered the man, unaware of the double meaning in her remark.

Her hopes of finding Diarmuid had been dashed, but now was not the time to grieve.

"Is this your handiwork?"  
"Nope. Dirty tricks are a mage's job. My kind simply fights when and where we're told. Isn't that right, my invisible friend? Considering the fact that there's a servant at your side, can I assume that you're my enemy?"

Eritrea took a subtle glance at her surroundings. Fenced in on all four sides, fighting here would be at their disadvantage. The Lancer class servant caught her gaze.

"Oh, impressive. You seem to have a gist of things. Man, I blew it. As amusing as this was, I really should've kept my mouth shut."  
Eritrea raised her voice, no more subtlety.  
"Archer, get us to open space!"

The servant materialized, picking Eritrea up and jumping off the rooftops with Lancer following behind. When they landed on solid ground, she jumped out of Archer's arms and he directed his attention to the enemy, one sword in his hand. Their opponent was fired-up, things were finally getting interesting.

"Now we're talking. I like people who get straight down to business. You don't strike me as a Saber, though. Who are you?"

Archer kept silent. Lancer continued, hoping to goad him into revealing information about himself.

"You don't seem like the duelist type. So, an archer. Go ahead and take out your bow then. I'll wait for you."

Archer pivoted his body slightly and gave a confident smirk to Eritrea. She got the hint.

"Show me what you've got."

A surge of prana erupted from his crimson-clad body, the two combatants stood facing each other in dead silence. Then Archer vanished, leaving a swirling mass of dust behind. What ensued was a furious battle between sword and spear. At one point, Archer's attack sent Lancer hurtling into a building.

 _Damn... This is goanna cost the administration_.

Lancer came dashing forth from the rubble, continuing the onslaught. On the third slash, he disarmed Archer, leaving him wide open for a spear to the heart.

Eritrea clenched her fist, fear swelling in her chest. But before Lancer could make his move, Archer materialized another sword, parrying Lancer's blow and forcing him back.

"A dual-wielder, huh? A mere bowman playing swordsman? Who do you think you are?!"

Lancer charged forward, his spear splintering or disarming Archer's swords. But the projections kept materializing to replace the ones he lost in the scuffle. Eventually, Lancer paused to consider his enemy's strategy.

"Twenty-seven. To think I've disarmed you twenty-seven times, and yet you still have more."  
"What's the matter? This wait-and-see approach is unlike you. Where'd all that bravado go?"  
"Trying to provoke me, you sly fox? Fine, I'll just ask you. What Heroic Spirit are you? I've never heard of an Archer who wields two swords."

Archer changed the subject, like master like servant.

"You on the other hand, are easily identifiable. They say only the swiftest heroes can be Lancers. You stand head and shoulders above them. There aren't even three spear-wielders of your skill in all of history. Add in the agility of a beast, and that leaves but one."

Somewhere, somehow, Eritrea was certain that Diarmuid was turning in his grave. Even so, Archer had diverted the attention using flattery, she was proud.

"You flatter me, Archer."  
Lancer dug his heels into the ground and shifted his stance.  
"Then will you face my mightiest blow?"  
"I won't stop you. You are an enemy I must ultimately overcome."

Eritrea could see the massive amount of mana emitted from Lancer's spear and the ferocity in his ruby eyes. The servant was about to unleash his Noble Phantasm.

_Shit..._

The next moment, Lancer's features changed. One of his eyebrows quirked and his ears twitched as if someone had infiltrated his mind. The deadly energy from his weapon evaporated like mist. He bared a toothy grin at Eritrea.

"Looks like luck is on your side tonight, lass. My master just ordered me back. See you around."

With unparalleled speed, he leaped away into the night. Eritrea broke the silence.

"Are you injured?"  
"Not a scratch."  
"In that case, wanna go for a walk?"

Archer found himself smiling a little bit, though he wasn't sure why. But he kept his back to Eritrea so she wouldn't notice.

"Sure."

They strolled along the cobbled streets, away from Fuyuki City's centre. Eritrea stopped for a moment and sighed as she stared at the metropolis in the distance.

_And to think I'd find him again. Enough. I have to win this war, I can't waste time on trivial matters. Curse these hormones._

But somewhere at the back of her mind she knew what she felt had nothing to do with that.

"You and that carrot-top are cousins, aren't you?" said Archer, waking Eritrea from her trance.  
"Yes, why?"  
"I just find it odd that he addresses you as neesan."  
"He's actually my late uncle's adopted son so we _are_ legitimate cousins, but he's always looked up to me as an older sister."

The pair trod on in silence, before Eritrea's voice filled the atmosphere.

"You never told me about your wish."

Archer glanced at his master and wondered what was going through her head.

"I don't have one."  
"What?" she replied, looking at him before she burst out in laughter. It could have been his imagination, but Archer thought she sounded more sad than amused.   
"He said the same thing."  
"He?"  
"My last servant. Maybe one of these days I'll tell you about him."

Eritrea halted along a traffic barrier and gazed upon the city again. Archer stopped beside her and did the same.

"You want to end the Holy Grail War, don't you master?"  
"That's right."  
"That seems like a selfless wish. Don't you have desires of your own?"  
Eritrea chuckled, "You're one to talk. But to answer your question, I don't. All this time I've searched for purpose. This task has given me just that. There isn't anything else I want."

 _Purpose, huh?_ thought Archer, looking at his master.

"Konbawa." said a child-like voice, disrupting the serenity.

Eritrea drew her two katanas by instinct. Archer stood in front of her, his swords already in hand. It was a little girl with white hair and red eyes.

The child curtsied, "My name is Illyasviel Von Einzbern."

_Einzbern_ _? ..._ _Irisviel_ _?_

"Eritrea Yunani, yoroshiku."  
"Eritrea? Did I hear correctly?"  
"That depends, I don't think we've met before but I once knew someone who looked a lot like you."  
"You must be the distant relative my mother mentioned in her last letter to me."

Eritrea lowered her blades just a fraction.

"Lady Irisviel told you about me?"  
"Yes, in a letter that I received just a week after she left with Kiritsugu. Okaasama said that you were kind to her. That you didn't lay a finger on my mother even when your servant defeated the one protecting her."  
"There's no reason to hurt an innocent person."  
"Precisely. For your benevolence, I will grant you an honorable battle. Only our servants will fight, Berserker will not target you. Assuming of course, you do the same."  
"Of course. The honour is mine, cousin."

"NEESAN!"

Eritrea frowned, then turned around to see her less graceful relative sprinting towards her with Saber beside him.

_Mattaku, what's this dimwit doing here?_

Archer, having read her thoughts, replied telepathically.  
 _"Your cousin must have a death wish."_

"Must you always arrive like that? What on earth are you doing here anyway?"  
Shirou panted, "Saber... Sensed you ... In danger... We came... Help."  
"Don't go regretting that decision now."

"Konbawa, onii-chan." said their opponent. "Come to join us? How nice of you."

"Incredible." said Archer, "In terms of raw ability, that servant outclasses even Saber."  
"Then this calls for your class's primary fighting style."  
"Understood."

Archer sped off to find a vantage point while his master spoke with the homunculus.

"Lady Illyasviel-"  
"No need to be so formal, cousin. You can call me Illya."

Although the child was smiling, Eritrea knew she was not to be taken lightly.

"Illya, am I correct in assuming you will spare Shirou as well?"  
"Berserker won't touch him. Sa, shall we begin?"

The masters retreated to a safe distance; Eritrea and Shirou on one side, and Illyasviel on another. The beast that faced Saber was indeed terrifying. Any other person would have taken one look and turned tail without a second thought. But the King of Knights stood her ground, regal strength in her fierce, beautiful eyes.

Berserker sprang forth, bringing his machete down on Saber. She blocked the attack, swinging three hundred and sixty degrees. Her counterattack sent him flying backwards, but the ground that came in contact with his humongous body dealt more damage than him.

The mad servant repeated the move. This time, Saber jumped and forced her weight upon the blade, ready to cut him down with hers. In a split second, the beast let go of his sword and performed a backflip, then he aimed several kicks at Saber. She leaped back to safety.

_"Amazing. Even in the grip of madness, his swordsmanship remains unaffected. Fire support, Archer."_

A hail of gleaming red arrows found their mark and exploded. But Berserker simply emerged from the smoke like they were ant bites. The battle continued, with Saber leading her opponent to a graveyard.

It wasn't kingly to disturb the quiet repose of the dead, but if Saber didn't use the tombstones for cover she would soon be joining them. The change of terrain yielded quick results, blood dripped onto the earth and Berserker looked down to see a deep cut across the length of his chest.

Saber took a breath, then charged forward. Sheltered behind one tombstone, she waited. Berserker took the bait, smashing the rock. Saber swung her blade upwards and cut him again.

_"Eritrea, have Saber retreat. I'm sending something his way."_

"Saber! Get back! Archer's arrow is coming!"  
Shirou ran past Eritrea and headed for the cemetery.  
"Shirou!"

Shirou ignored her, making a beeline for Saber. He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the impending danger.

Archer's arrow shot through the sky like a lethal comet, stunning and destructive. Even the explosion was remarkable, emitting a red light that transitioned to purple. It was a fine hit.

From where he stood watching, Archer's lips turned into a self-satisfied grin. His master on the other hand, wasn't so happy.

_He survived the equivalent of an A-rank Noble Phantasm without a scratch. Unbelievable._

"Your Archer is impressive, cousin." said Illyasviel, who had appeared beside Eritrea during the explosion. "Enough. Return to me, Berserker. Your servant has piqued my interest, I'd like to see what else he can do. Bye-bye, cousin. Let's play again sometime, onii-chan."

"Hell of a night." exclaimed Eritrea upon returning to Shirou's mansion.  
"Agreed." said Archer, materializing beside her.  
Eritrea elbowed her servant lightly. "Looks like you've got yourself an admirer, eh?"  
"Don't you mean _admirers_? I thought you were the first." smirked Archer, grateful for the banter as it took his mind off the earlier battle.   
"Shut up, fool. You alright, Saber?"  
"I'm fine. Thank you, Eritrea."

"Shirou."

The boy looked at his neesan, the frivolity had disappeared from her tone.

"I've made my decision, we will form a temporary alliance. You and Saber came all the way just to help me. You deserve to fight and earn your place in this battle."

Though he was worn out by the evening's events, Shirou's eyes sparkled with anticipation.

"Arigatō gozaimasu, neesan! I won't let you down!"

Eritrea place one hand on his shoulder, a somber expression on her face, "If in the end you win instead of me, make the wish in my place. End the Holy Grail War."

Shirou nodded.

"I will."

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

****

**Chapter Four: Return of the Sensei**

"So because we're having some construction workers come over to fix the gymnasium, all after-school club activities are canceled until they finish." announced Fujimura Sensei, looking just as puzzled as most of her students. "I still don't know how THAT big a hole appeared overnight but..."

Shirou turned his head to look at his neesan, seated in the anime protagonist chair. She avoided his gaze, suddenly finding the window very interesting. Upon reflection, this situation actually cut both ways. It had been a hectic night of fights and meeting new relatives, now was the perfect time for reconnaissance.

For some absurd reason, Shirou was unduly concerned about Saber and had insisted that she stay put in the Japanese mansion. So Eritrea took matters into her own hands when school ended.

"Archer, follow Shirou and make sure he gets home safe. I'm staying behind to get some information."   
"Don't you have plenty of that in the mansion's library?"  
"I'm hacking into the surveillance cameras around the school. It's unlikely that our mystery master left any clues but I may be able to find out who set up the soul-eating field."  
"Alright, I'll come back right after. Stay alert."  
"Aren't I always?"

After breaking into the surveillance room, Eritrea looked around her, knowing that even though the school prioritized the safety of its students, the safekeeping of the passcode for the cameras was a slightly different matter.

_Not as if they're expecting to catch some students involved in a magus war on film. Talk about having different extra-curricular activities._

Eritrea smiled grimly, because she just so happened to be one of those students. She spotted a piece of paper with the password pinned to a board.

_Bingo._

After trawling through multiple recordings, Eritrea struck gold on a video from one week ago. The shadows of the night covered the skulking silhouette. The camera's visuals weren't great either, making it difficult to ascertain the perpetrator's identity.

_Hmm. Let's try a little something._

There! The naked eye would have missed it but Eritrea slowed down the tape and flicked through frame by frame. And she saw it.

_Curly hair, average height, male build..._

"Shinji?!"

Eritrea quickly closed the tape, wiped her figure from the recordings and exited the room, leaving no trace of her presence there. Her focused eyes ran down the hallway as she considered her plans.

_So that vermin is the one who planted the seals. The cameras couldn't catch his servant. No matter, I got what I needed._

"Yo."

Eritrea halted in her tracks, her hand instinctively moving to the knife hidden under her skirt but stopped when she saw the shimmering haze before her. Blue hair, red spear.

"Here to kill me without first fighting my servant? Not very brave."  
"No, but he was about to. I'm glad he hasn't made his move yet."  
"What's that suppose to mean?"

As Eritrea stalled for time, she focused all her energy into telepathically calling Archer. 

"It's no use. I used a rune earlier to draw up a barrier, you can't get to him."

With the remarkable speed granted to the Lancer class, Eritrea soon found herself struggling in the arms of the blue-haired servant.

"What the hell are you doing?!"  
"I'm sorry, but this is for your own safety. Courtesy of your Sensei."

_Sensei... Olivier?_ _Bakana_ _..._

But Eritrea had no more time to ponder the impossibility of his words before Lancer pressed one of the pressure points at her neck and sped away carrying the unconscious girl.

When Eritrea came to, she groaned and observed her surroundings. She was strapped to a chair in a room filled with old boxes. Meager shafts of light came in from a dusty window.

 _Well, isn't this scene familiar?_ thought Eritrea, remembering the time Caster captured her and held her captive in his despicable hideout.  _Kidnapped again. Shit's getting old!_

The circumstances may have been similar, but the characters involved? Not so much. One in particular held on more stubbornly to life than the last. Right on cue, her captor walked in.

For a dead man, he seemed plenty alive. He had taken a bullet to the heart and lived—a devil in human form if ever there was one. If Eritrea was astonished, she hid it well.

"Surprised to see me?"  
"Betsu ni. Scum like you always have a way of surviving. Also, the mullet isn't working."

Lancer materialized beside Eritrea.  
"You should be grateful, lass. Your Sensei saved your life."

_Sensei? I see. A devious ploy you've used against your servant. Not unlike yourself, Executor._

"Kirei asked me to kidnap you because your servant was planning to kill you. But you're safe now."  
"Actually Lancer, change of plans."

Lancer turned his attention to the priest, Kirei stepped towards Eritrea and stared at her in silence.

"Well, go on then. Don't exclude me from the details of your _dastardly_ plot." said Eritrea, stressing on the adjective as she rolled her eyes, clearly still prone to sarcasm in the midst of dire situations.  
"I want you to relinquish your command seals and give me the servant Archer."  
She made a show of thinking it over, "Yeah, no."  
"Either you hand him over or I kill you right here."

"What's the meaning of this, Kirei?"  
"Silence, dog. I didn't ask you to kidnap her so she could be saved. She never needed saving! This girl isn't even my pupil. I simply wanted her to hand over Archer. Now shut your mouth, I'm tired of being interrupted."  
"You lied to me..."  
"What of it?"

Kirei looked at Lancer and saw that his fists were tightly clenched, his knuckles turning white.

"Oh? Are you angry, Lancer? What are you going to do about that?"  
"You won't lay a hand on her, you filth!"  
"Lancer," said Kirei, calling upon his command seal. "I command you to stay where you are and watch."

A sickening grin spread across his face as his voice lingered on the last word. Then the cleric went back to his conversation with Eritrea.

"So? What will it be? The command seals or your life?"  
"You know, the most ironic thing here is that you, who's supposed to be a man of God, is in fact the most ungodly person to walk this earth."  
"My patience is wearing thin, girl. Your answer, now."  
"Not a chance in hell."  
"So be it, there are many other ways I could get you to surrender the seals."

Kirei grabbed Eritrea's arm. The sleeve of her thumb-hole jacket, which covered the back of her palms, were pushed up. The priest was expecting to see the scarlet markings on her hand when in reality, she possessed none. Gazing at the unblemished skin of her palm, Kirei became livid.

"What's this?! Where are the command seals?!"   
"I already told you." answered the teenager with a cool stare. "Not a chance."

Kirei threw aside her arm and place his hands around Eritrea's neck, raising her along with the chair.

"This makes no sense, how can you be a master if you don't have the command seals?! Answer me!"  
"Who the hell do you think you are?"  
"I am God! The Holy Grail will be mine, it belongs to me and no other!"

Even through strangled breaths, Eritrea spoke with fire and command.

"I serve only one God, and He does not depend on such blasphemies."

A pointed tip shattered the window and penetrated Kirei's skull.

_Damn, I'm good._

The white-haired gentleman took a moment to admire his work, testament to his prowess with the bow. Then he jumped from the tree he was hiding in and entered the premises through the broken window.

Meanwhile, Lancer was just released from the captivity of the command seal. He looked at his dead master and Eritrea expected to see the tiniest hint of remorse but instead his expression seemed satisfied. He set Gae-Bolg aside and helped her out of the ropes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. He lied to me, I thought I was just protecting you."  
"It's alright. We were all fooled."

An image of her deceased Sensei flooded her mind. Her thoughts were disrupted by the sound of shattered glass and a pair of sturdy feet landing on the floors.

"Ah, my knight in shining armor. Or should I say, Archer?"  
"Nice to see you too. I told you to be on your guard."  
"And I thought you were here to rescue me, not reprimand me for my actions." smirked Eritrea.

Archer returned the smug expression, "Guess I'll save that for later, huh? Stand back, Eritrea. I'm gonna finish this one."  
"No, don't. He was trying to save my life."  
"What?"  
"His master lied to him. I'll explain later, but sheathe your weapons first."

Archer, having seen that Lancer did not pick up his spear, obeyed her orders.

"It seems you and I have very similar fighting styles, eh?" said Eritrea, gesturing towards the dead priest.  
"Get the brain, it does the job every time." agreed Archer.  
"It's also kinda funny how his death was caused by the same class of servant he commanded in the last war."

Archer chuckled at his master's morbid joke before reaching into his side and pulling out two swords.

"Here, I thought you'd like to see these again."  
"You thought right. Thank you, Archer." smiled Eritrea, taking the dual katanas.  
"Well, time to go."   
"Before that, we should cremate the corpse."  
"Really, master? Now isn't the time. Besides, the scum doesn't deserve it."  
"What people do or do not deserve is not for me to decide. That choice lies in the hands of my Father."

Archer was silenced by her reply and Lancer stood astounded behind him.

"Even if what he did was despicable, I hardly think we should leave his body here to rot."  
"As you wish, master."

That last word was uttered with a deeper sense of respect.

As Eritrea watched the flames consume Kirei Kotomine's corpse, she wondered.

_If I had experienced what you had, would I have done the same things?_

The Executor's existence reminded Eritrea of mankind's internal struggle between light and the darkness. In Kirei's case, the darkness had won. Despite his evil, she found herself mourning his lost.

As his body turned to ash in the fires, Eritrea felt pity for the man and she realized, even the damned were still deserving. Deserving of love and compassion. 

"Archer, time to go."  
Archer turned to pick up his master.  
"Wait." said Lancer, looking Eritrea in the eye. "Take me as your second servant. I want to help you."

Eritrea observed the man, either he was an excellent liar or this was an earnest proposal.

"Eritrea, you don't know if he can be trusted. I wouldn't suggest-"  
She raised one palm to silence Archer, "Very well."  
Lancer beamed, "Thank you, master."

"Danga," her tone was different now, stricter. "If you betray me, Archer here will kill you. And I won't stop him."  
"I will never allow that, master."  
"See to it that you don't. Come, Archer will lead the way."

As they sailed through the evening skies, Lancer smiled in contentment. At long last, he would be able to serve a master he actually respected.

**Author's Note: '** **Betsu** **ni** **' means not really & '** **danga** **' means however.**

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

****

**Chapter Five: Every Dog Has Its Day**

"Alright, first things first, we need to form the pact. If you recall, I don't have any command seals but I'm still a legitimate master."  
"Yeah, how is that possible?"  
"I rely on the strength of the Lord, which explains why I don't practice magic as well as what we're about to do next."

Archer's eyes twitched.

"What _are_ you going to do?"  
"Form the pact, of course. I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but I need you to go to my bedroom wearing as little as possible."

Both servants were shocked, but one of them was furious while the other was leaping for joy inside.

"What?! Don't tell me you're going to have se-"  
"No! Jeez. The transfer of spiritual aura requires as much skin to be exposed as possible to ease the process."

Lancer's devilish smirk fell for one second but returned when an idea sparked off in his cranium.

"Well, it's a little unusual but I could make that work too..."  
Eritrea shot him a glare, "Touch me inappropriately and I will cut your balls off. That is, if you have any."  
Lancer winked.  
"We've got plenty of time to find out."

Archer's usually placid expressions contorted in bewilderment.

"Master, you're not actually going to be alone in your room with that dog, are you?"  
"You're very welcome to come in and watch."  
Archer growled at his master's sarcasm, his hands were tied.  
"Fine, I'll wait outside. You, keep your hands off my master."

 **In Eritrea's bedroom.**  
Lancer and Eritrea were seated seiza-style across one another in their undergarments. As someone who trained hard to maintain her physicality, Eritrea couldn't help but admire the toned muscles of Lancer's upper body. Though he had been checking her out too, Lancer was not oblivious to her gaze.

"Like what you see?"  
"What I'd like is to kick you in the scrotum."

As a child, Eritrea struggled immensely with her self-esteem. The confidence she possessed today had been cultivated over time, and she was glad for it. Even in this generally uncomfortable situation, she would take control of the reins.

"Give me your hands."  
Lancer slipped his palms into hers, their fingers interlacing.  
"We're going to picture the essence of our individual spiritual energy in our minds. Once the image is solidified, we'll have to search for each other's and let the two combine. Throughout this process, I will recite a bible verse. This is a precarious procedure, I need absolute focus from you. Is that clear?"

Lancer nodded, there would be plenty of time for frivolity later.

The pair closed their eyes and envisioned their own spiritual aura, the flame of their souls in the darkness of their minds. Guided by their hearts, the fires moved in the shadows, seeking to find the other. Lancer heard a voice in his head.

"Love is patient, love is kind."

It was his master speaking.

"It does not envy, it does not boast. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking."

Closer now, he could feel it. Her aura was approaching his.

"It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth."

Eritrea could sense a flicker of foreign energy, was it his?

"It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease."

It was like doing a tightrope walk on a pitch-black night.

"Where there are tongues, they will be stilled.Where there is knowledge, it will pass away."

As the final syllable left her tongue, they felt it. Like a hand reaching out at the last moment to catch the other before it could freefall into the abyss.

The two flames fused together, tussling as they adjusted to the clashing of elements. Their spirits shook for an instant, like a tranquil body of water disturbed by a hurtled stone. Then all was quiet once more, the ripples receding into echoes. It was finished.

Lancer cracked open his eyes to see his master smiling before him. She got up and strode towards her bed.

"Now, the final procedure. We have to go to bed."

Lancer took a while to regain his bearings, the fusion of their energies had left him in a daze. But Ireland's Man of Light was quick on his feet.

"Don't look so excited. What I meant was our skin has to be in consistent contact for the next eight hours to complete the merging of our spiritual aura. So for tonight, you'll have to sleep in the same bed as me. Make yourself comfortable, I need to inform Archer."

Archer nearly burst into the room and wrung Lancer's neck after hearing what his master was about to do. But with a proper explanation and much assurance, he yielded.

 _Curse that dog_. he thought, stomping down the hallway to his own room.

After Eritrea draped one leg over Lancer's and fell asleep with her head resting on his collarbone, he smiled smugly at his new master.

_Who says the Lancer class has E-rank luck?_

**The next day.**  
"Good morning, beautiful."

Eritrea opened her eyes to the sight of a shirtless, blue-haired man looking at her. Resting his head in one arm and smiling a toothy grin.

_That was so cheesy._

"I'm not a great cook, but what do you say to breakfast in bed?"

_What is this guy, a walking cliché? Looks like I chose a handful to work with. Better get out of here before I retch._

"I heard that." smirked the gentleman in her bed. "Just so you know, I'm a handful in other places..."

_He can hear some of my thoughts. Excellent, the procedure worked without a hitch._

"Really?" she said, putting on a robe. "It looked like I could hold it with just my thumb and forefinger."

Outside, Archer almost dropped a tray of oatmeal and green teafrom laughing too much.

_Oh shit. Master, one. Dog, zero. You go, Eritrea._

After everyone was fully dressed, Eritrea spoke to her servants.

"We're going to Shirou's place, I need to give him an update on what's happened."  
"Yes, mistress." replied Lancer.  
"Please don't call me that, it makes me think I'm having sexual affiliations with a married man."  
"Well then, you can rest assured because I am totally available..." smirked Lancer, leaning in close.

A loud thwack was heard next.

"Say that again and I'll knock out your incisors."

As Lancer rubbed his jawline, he spotted Archer covering his mouth while he sniggered.

"Domo~" said Eritrea, entering the Japanese mansion.  
"Neesan! Aree? Who's that?" said Shirou, pointing at Lancer.  
"Shirou! Stand back, it's an enemy servant!" shouted Saber, brandishing her sword.  
"Everybody calm down," Eritrea took control before Saber could Excalibur them all into oblivion. "He's my new servant."  
"You got Lancer as a second servant? How?"  
"Long story. Anywa-"  
"Not as long as what's down here." smirked Lancer, who got a smack on his head for interrupting.

"I broke into the school's surveillance systems and found out that Shinji is a master. He and his servant have set up a soul-eating field in the premises."  
"Shinji? Impossible!"  
"I'm afraid not. Your capabilities only extend to basic tracing and reinforcement magecraft. As for me, well, nothing more can be said. We can't erase the seals. Our best option now is to be ready when the attack comes. That's all I came to tell you. Stay safe, I'll see you on Monday."

After they left Shirou's mansion, Archer headed to the supermarket to pick up groceries.

"You sure you'll be okay without me?"   
"He's not as bad as you think, Archer." chuckled Eritrea. "Go ahead, we'll see you afterwards."

An hour later, Archer came home to see his master fighting with Lancer. The two were a short distance apart, preparing for their next move.

"What's going on here?"  
"We're engaged." grinned Lancer.  
"In combat!" Eritrea added quickly. "I'm practicing my fighting skills with Lancer."  
"Lancer, this space is too small, let's go elsewhere. I know a place. Archer, you can make dinner first, we'll be back soon."

Eritrea led Lancer to a wide field surrounded by trees where she once found Diarmuid during the war. Her memories drifted to him for a while, then a voice brought her back to reality. She turned to look at Lancer and sighed.

_Back again... But this time, I'm here with a different knight._

"Something wrong, master?" Lancer's mischievous expression showed concern.  
"Not at all. Let's pick up where we left off."

The setting sun burned fiercely, as if the sky itself had been set on fire. The duo took a break from their sparring and sat down on the grass to watch the spectacle. Lancer was beaming inwardly.

He never thought he'd be able to enjoy his time as a Heroic Spirit, but things had changed. Glancing at Eritrea, he saw that her eyes looked faintly sorrowful, something he had discerned the moment they arrived in this place.

_I want to share your burdens, to take away your pain the way you did for me._

"Would you like to learn how to throw a lance, master?"

Eritrea stared ahead a little longer before turning to her new servant. To him, her smile was magic.

"Why not?"

Lancer's heart sighed upon seeing the sunset in her eyes. But he masked it well, giving her a roguish grin instead.

 _This is goanna be fun_.

**Author's Note: '** **Aree** **' means huh?**

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

****

**Interlude One: Hormones**

As Eritrea was putting up her hair into a ponytail on her way to the indoor gym downstairs, she overheard her two servants in another one of their daily squabbles.

"Ha! You can only lift _that_ much?"  
 _That sounds like Lancer, typical._  
"I'm working on my form. Just shut up and spot me, fool."  
 _I can't take this anymore, I'm going in to get my cardio done._

When Eritrea walked in, she saw Archer doing bench presses with Lancer's arms hovering over the bar above him. But that wasn't what caught her attention. If there was a succinct way of describing the scene it would be...

 _Like a Calvin Klein commercial but up close._ thought Eritrea, looking at her two shirtless and sweaty servants.

"Oh, hello." drawled Lancer, baring his teeth.  
Archer panted, "Eritrea."  
"See something you like?" (Come on, Lancer not that line again.)

Thankfully, Eritrea managed to compose herself.

"Please, I've seen better."

She left the gym and went to the bathroom. After locking the doors, Eritrea splashed cold water on her face.

"This is what happens when you put a seventeen year old under the same roof as those, those..."

 _Those devastatingly attractive men._ said her intuition, much to Eritrea's annoyance.

"Shut up! That's not the point here!" she shouted, reprimanding herself.

Those two were hotheads, hot-blooded and above all, hot.

 _I don't know about Archer but Lancer is definitely the amorous type._ thought Eritrea, recalling the Irish servant's brazen flirtatious tendencies.

"With those two around I wouldn't need cardio to get my heart rate up." she joked.

Then Eritrea unlocked the doors and exited the bathroom.

 **On the other side of the door.**  
"Shut up! That's not the point here!"  
"It sounds like she's arguing with herself." whispered Lancer, pressing his ears against the wood.  
"That's ridiculous. Move over, I can't hear!" hissed Archer, pushing Lancer aside.

The next thing Eritrea said was more of a murmur, so Archer could only pick up a few words.

"With those... Wouldn't... Heart rate."

He heard a slow thunk as the gears within the doorknob shifted.

"ABORT! ABORT!" exclaimed Archer, grabbing Lancer by his hair and running from their hiding spot.

When Eritrea got out from the bathroom, she thought she caught sight of scampering feet and the tip of one blue ponytail disappearing around the corner. Not a moment later, she heard raised voices.

"You dipshit, you almost ripped off my ponytail!"  
"You'd look better if I did, dog."

Unbeknownst to the servants, Eritrea was looming over them.

"URUSAI!!!"

The next thing they knew, Archer and Lancer were on their bottoms, rubbing their foreheads where they had just forcefully collided.

"H-Hai, waga aruji..." said the two rascals in perfect synchronization.

Well, at least there was one thing they agreed on.

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

****

**Chapter Six: Siege**

Eritrea decided to spend recess alone today, so she headed to the school's rooftops and Archer followed suit. The two sat on flat, slanted beams connected to a water tank.

From their height, they both commanded a view of the city. Eritrea's long hair was a golden brown wave carried by the wind. Archer looked at his master, perplexed.

"You have a fear of heights but you like high places. Quite a paradox, don't you think?"  
"Well when you put it that way, I suppose I'm not scared of heights. I'm afraid I won't survive the fall."  
"You mean you're afraid no one will catch you if you fall?"  
"Who said anything about catching me? I'm just afraid if I fall I won't fly."

Of course. This was the person he had chosen to acknowledge as his master. She never intended for anyone to do the rescuing for her except herself.

"Where's the dog?"  
"I've asked Lancer to keep an eye on Shirou."  
"Two boneheads together, huh?"  
"Aren't you the leader of the pack?" smirked Eritrea.  
"Go to hell, master." huffed the servant, turning his gaze away from her.

Eritrea chuckled, remembering a witty quote.

_As long as you know men are like children, you know everything._

Then the ground rumbled beneath them, throwing Eritrea off the beam. Archer swooped in to catch her and they landed on the tiles.

"An earthquake?" said Eritrea.  
"No. This feels... ominous."  
"Don't tell me... The field!"

From several various positions surrounding the school premises, red lightning shot upwards and converged at a focal point. A dark circle materialized and at its centre, a malicious eye came into being.

"The barrier has been activated!" shouted Archer.  
"Shirou!" exclaimed Eritrea. She bolted down the steps towards his classroom.

 _"Looks like they invited_ _Sauron_ _to the party._ _Where's_ _Gandalf_ _when you need him?_ _Now isn't the time to be making_ _LOTR_ _references, Eritrea._ _Lancer, where are you?"_

Halfway down the corridors, Lancer materialized in front of her.

"Don't worry, lass. I got him right here."  
"Neesan! What's going on?"  
"The soul-eating field has been activated."

"Eritrea?"  
She whipped around to see two blond boys staring at her.  
"Ed? Al?"

_How are they still awake?_

"I see. Residual spiritual energy from the alchemy powers you once possessed. That's why you didn't collapse like the others."

Alphonse stepped forward, his gentle features tinged with worry.

"Eri... What's happening? Why is everyone else unconscious? And who are those two?"

His finger was pointed at Archer and Lancer, Eritrea squeezed his shoulder.

"We can discuss this later. For now, I need your help. The lives of our friends are at stake. As well as one blue-haired jackass. Excluding you, Lancer."  
"Hey!"

Eritrea glanced behind Alphonse to look at his brother, his brows were knitted and he nodded firmly.

"Archer, my swords."

Eritrea took the dual blades from her servant and tossed one to her cousin.

"Reinforce it if you must. Ed, Al, I trust your hand-to-hand combat skills are still intact?"  
Edward puffed out his chest, confidence in his tone.  
"We never stopped practicing."

An animal's skeleton emerged from a cloud of purple smoke between them. Before it pounced, the tip of Eritrea's sword rammed through its skull and it crumbled to dust.

"Our primary objective is the location of Shinji, find him and we can break down the barrier."  
"Master, I sense another servant in the area." said Lancer.  
"In that case, Lancer and Archer, deal with the servant. The rest of us will dismantle the field. Let's move!"

Having touched one of the barrier's sigils the night Lancer first did battle with Archer, Eritrea recognized the aura it emitted. She was now leading the group towards its activation point and cutting down the horde of skeleton familiars in their way.

Lancer and Archer tore though the demonic legion without breaking a sweat. Halfway down a passage, the servant materialized before them. She had lilac hair that reached her ankles, her eyes were covered by some sort of fabric and she held long serrated chains in each hand.

"Mitsuketa." grinned Lancer, eager for battle.

The female servant sprang forth, throwing her chains at Lancer. He dodged the assault. Archer dashed in, stabbing her with his twin blades. Lancer was already prepared to strike should the need arise. Their opponent smiled and leaned in close to Archer.

Like a curtain thrown back to reveal its final act, the female servant changed her form. This time, she wore a black cloak with a hood that covered her face. She simpered as if to mock the other two Heroic Spirits, then vanished in a flurry of purple butterflies.

The other team arrived at their location to find Shinji huddled in a corner, quaking in his boots. Eritrea made her way towards him. Shirou took a step forward but was stopped by Edward's hand.

"She knows what to do."

Shinji made a pathetic attempt at escape but received a swift kick from behind, landing him on his bottom.

"Deactivate the barrier, now."  
"Y-You've got it wrong! You've got it all wrong! It wasn't me! I swear!"  
"Lie again and I'll break all the fingers on both your hands, starting with the one you used when you tried to hit me. Take down the field."  
"I'm telling you, you've got it wrong! It wasn't me! Rider was killed by-"

"Neesan!" interrupted Shirou.  
"Ed, Al, watch him." said Eritrea as she walked over to the room Shirou had entered.

The inside of the science laboratory had been completely obliterated. But it seems someone had managed to conduct one last experiment. Pinned against the wall like a gruesome dissection were the bloody and mangled limbs of a servant.

As if awaiting their presence, the neck twisted a full circle before crumbling like broken plaster. The barrier outside withered away with the dead servant.

The next sound that everyone heard was a crack accompanied by Shinji's screams.

"Left index finger." said a monotonous female voice. "Should I go for the thumb or the pinky next?"  
"Please! I don't know anything!"  
"Your scared-shitless expression when we arrived says otherwise. You must have seen the killer's face before abandoning your servant."  
"T-This isn't fair! I don't have a servant, I'm not a master anymore! You two will be the next dead bodies around here!"  
"That's not for you to say. I'm not popular for my patience. If you saw who did it, tell me. Right now, that's all you're good for."  
"Forget it! Y-You're the ones who should be scared. After all, you're the ones it'll come after next!" shouted the boy with a deranged smile.

_He's too frightened to be of any use. So be it._

She released her grip and Shinji scuttled away. Before he ran out of her grasp, Eritrea swiftly grabbed him by the back of his collar and flung him straight into the lockers on the opposite end.

"Eritrea! You could have severely damaged his cranium!" exclaimed Alphonse, wide-eyed.  
"Please. I was doing him a favour. The impact must have reconnected some of the loose wires in his brain."

After laying the bodies of their fellow students outside to rest, Archer and Lancer materialized behind Eritrea.

"Shinji's servant, Rider, is dead." said the girl, as if announcing a weather report.  
"We encountered a servant but after Archer pierced her, she transformed." Lancer began.  
"Transformed?"   
"Yes, my attacks didn't seem to weaken her. Her appearance was occult... Like a mage." explained Archer.  
"Caster." frowned Eritrea. "Shirou, call an ambulance, I need to speak with Edward and Alphonse."  
"Hai, neesan."

Lancer's gaze fell on an unconscious body with blue hair, laying still by the lockers.

"Master, aren't you going to move that one too?"  
"Are you kidding? I put him there."

Lancer's eyes found the dent marks on one of the metal compartments above the boy and he chuckled to himself.

_Man, I love this woman._

"Ed, Al, thank you for helping me."   
"Of course. But what's going on Eritrea? What are you involved with?" asked Alphonse.  
"I'm afraid I can't tell you. At the risk of sounding cliché, the situation is too dangerous."  
"But we want to help!" argued Edward.  
"You already have, and you still can. Cover for me when I'm not around, if that ever happens."

The brothers looked reluctant, they wanted to do more than just make up excuses if their friend went AWOL. But Eritrea smiled and place her hands on their shoulders.

"This is my fight. Trust me, please."  
They nodded, determined expressions on their faces.  
"We've got your back."

**Author's Note: '** **Mitsuketa** **' means found you.**

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

****

**Interlude Two: Emotions**

Archer had just finished cleaning up the library when he heard a voice from another room.

"THAT'S IT LANCER. YES, RIGHT THERE!"

_Eritrea? Why is she shouting?_

Archer followed the sounds, which got louder as he neared.

"HARDER! FASTER!"

_Masaka_ _! Don't tell me she's..._

The shouting stopped, and Archer breathed a sigh of relief, he was just being paranoid. At least he thought he was, until he heard a moan.

"That feels so good."  
"You're so tight..." responded a husky male voice.

Archer clenched his fist until the nails dug into his skin.

_That's it. I'm gonna kill that dog. I'm gonna kill him._

"...UNLIMITED BLADE WORKS!"

The walls and doors disappeared, replaced by wide, sandy plains. Three people were now surrounded by an infinite number of swords.

"What the hell?" exclaimed Lancer.  
"Is this..." gasped Eritrea.

She was at a loss for words. This was the first time she had seen the Reality Marble her servant spoke of. Then her eyes met Archer's and she found her response.

"Archer! What are we doing here?"  
"Why were you making so much noise?"  
"Lancer and I were just stretching after our boxing session. The guy throws a decent left hook." she answered, smiling at the man beside her.

Eritrea was right. Archer spotted the boxing gloves and pads at Lancer's feet. Now, he wasn't sure how to react.

"Archer." he snapped out of it. "What are we doing in your Reality Marble?"  
"I...I just thought..."

Archer's eyes were fixed on Lancer's now. Ireland's Man of Light smirked at him, having connected the dots.

"Archer must have thought we-"  
"SHUT UP, DOG!"

Eritrea got to her feet, glaring at her servants.

"If you two want to bicker, do it elsewhere. Archer, get us out of here, please."  
"Yes, master."

When their surroundings returned to normal, Archer murmured.

"I'll go start dinner, then."  
"Thank you, Archer. You're a darling."

Heading out of the indoor gym, Archer heard a muffled voice behind the door.

"What about me? I'm your darling too, right?"

The boxing pad made a loud thwack as it connected with the back of Lancer's head.

Meanwhile, Archer walked towards the kitchen with a frown.

_Since when did I get so protective?_

He shrugged off the thought and started preparing dinner.

Could it have been jealousy?

_Ha, yeah right._

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

****

**Chapter Seven: Narrowing Down the Suspects**

On their way to school, Eritrea spoke with her cousin on her servant's findings.

"Archer traced the residual energy from the attack to Ryuudouji Temple. As far as I know, that's where your friend, Issei, lives. It's likely that he is Caster's master."  
"I can't imagine Issei working with Caster to do something so horrible."  
"The most dangerous enemy is the one you don't suspect. Of course, there is the slight possibility that he's being manipulated by Caster."  
"That makes more sense. I'll look into him then, leave Issei to me."

Shirou was greeted with a dubious frown.

"Trust me! I won't hold back just because Issei is a friend. I wouldn't lie to you, neesan."  
"Alright. Inform me as soon as you find out."

Issei Ryuudou had a scowl on his face. The administration was implementing budget cuts for all the clubs, students were complaining about the substantial lack of funding and his headache was not helping in the least.

The door slid open and Issei glanced up to see a ginger-head entering the room. Hardly unusual, Shirou often spent recess period with him. What he found unsettling was the look on the ginger's face, as if he was about to do something very, very uncomfortable.

"Shirou?"  
"Issei... Don't ask why, just take your clothes off."  
"I-I beg your pardon?!" shouted the bespectacled boy, pushing his chair over and getting into a fighting stance. "Are you mad? Is this some form of interrogation? Are you gonna question me?"  
"That's right. And you'll answer! Just hurry up and strip!"

At that moment, the ginger-head had his two hands up. His orange hair and elevated palms resembling a lion's mane and paws as he pounced on his prey.

"Stop this, fool! You call yourself the heir of a samurai family?!"  
"Shut up and strip!"

After a thorough search, the student council president was on the floor, half-naked and blushing. Shirou's eyes closed into slits as he smiled with relief.

"Man, that's a real load off my mind."

For someone who appeared more concerned with his mind than his body, Issei was surprisingly well-built. Both pissed and embarrassed, he stood up.

"What's the meaning of this? Making me do that for nothing?"  
"Oh, right. My bad, Issei."  
"If you realize what you did was wrong, then I insist that you explain yourself!"  
"Sorry. I can't give you the details, but there was something I needed to confirm. Now that I know, we're all good."

If Eritrea had been there to see the ridiculous look plastered on Shirou's face, his neesan would have slapped him senseless.

"Say, Issei... Have you noticed anything strange at the temple recently?"  
"Strange how?" frowned the student council president, zipping up his uniform.  
"Can you think of anything that isn't like it used to be?"  
"Nothing in particular." humphed Issei. "That mountain is the very picture of tranquility!"  
"Issei!"

But his friend had already left.

When the last bell rang, Shirou waited for his classmates to go before speaking to Eritrea.

"So, I found out. Issei's not the master."  
"You're quick, I'm impressed Shirou. Well done." said Eritrea, patting his shoulder and giving him a small smile. "By the way, how did you know he-"  
"Don't ask."

The next day, Shirou thought that he should hang out with Issei again to dispel the awkwardness. Arriving at the student council quarters, he spotted Kuzuki Sensei and his friend conversing. Before the teacher left, he gazed sternly at Shirou.

"Hey, Issei."  
"What is it, Shirou?"  
"I've been curious about this for a while. Are you and Kuzuki Sensei close?"  
"I guess I never told you, did I? It's only natural that we'd be on good terms. The man's like a surrogate older brother to me."  
"Older brother?"  
"Kuzuki Sensei has been staying at the temple for the past three years or so. He's the quiet type, but he's also forthright and sincere. My respect for him is based on our living under the same roof, so it should come as no surprise that I look up to him as a brother."

_Kuzuki_ _Sensei lives in_ _Ryuudouji_ _Temple?_

"Issei, has anything happened at the temple recently?"  
"You seem unusually inquisitive today. Then again, I suppose one thing does come to mind. Kuzuki Sensei's getting married soon."  
"Married? To who?"   
"Whom." he corrected. "Anyway, about two weeks ago, he brought home a woman whom he introduced as his fiancée. Although it strikes me as a bit odd, I'm happy for them. She's been given special permission to stay at the temple."

Shirou furrowed his eyebrows.

_Jackpot._

"So what do we do now, neesan?"  
"We attack them tonight."  
"Tonight?"  
"Of course. There's no guarantee that Kuzuki Sensei will come to school tomorrow."  
"But neesan, we were wrong about Issei. Maybe Kuzuki Sensei is just another coincidence."  
"That's why I'll have Archer shoot an arrow at him that's close enough to be noticeable, but not enough to cause any harm."  
"If he's not a master then he'll have seen an arrow coming at him from nowhere!"  
"There's no other way to test him. He'll probably wet himself but he won't go blabbering about it. Who would believe him even if he did?"  
"Alright, we'll meet near the temple at eight."

Shirou arrived on the dot with Saber to find his cousin already waiting by a dilapidated petrol station with her servants. Under the faint starlight, he could see the glinting hilts of Eritrea's dual blades.

He himself had brought a katana and though his swordsmanship was not as good as his neesan's, the sword would certainly aid in defending himself.

"When I called Fujimura Sensei earlier, she said Kuzuki Sensei hadn't left school yet. Which means that he's still following his usual routine tonight."

Eritrea nodded. She descried the sword on Shirou's back, and smiled lightly.

"It's a straight road from the school to Ryuudouji Temple. He'll be here anytime now. No matter what happens next, hold on to your sword."  
"Hai, neesan."  
"Lancer has set up a magic field here to completely soundproof the area. Though we'll still be visible, a missile could blow this place sky high and no one would hear a thing."

Saber turned to see a beaming Lancer, obviously happy to receive the compliment.

"Eritrea." exclaimed Archer. "He's here."

A gleaming red arrow cut through the night air, missing its target by an eyelash. Before hitting the pavement it shattered in mid-air, crushed by an invisible hand. A female voice, malignant and unforgiving, resonated within the boundary field.

"I thought I warned you, Souichirou. This was bound to happen, so you should have remained at the temple."

A cloaked figure materialized from a cluster of purple butterflies. The man who had been as silent as the grave finally spoke.

"I wouldn't say that. After all, we've caught our prey."

Caster took her time, in no rush to kill her targets. She sensed the presence of more than one servant, but what did it matter? No one could defeat her. At least, that's what she believed.

"Come out, Archer's master. You may have brought friends but none of you can possibly stand up to me. I'll give you three seconds, then I will respond in kind to your aggression."

Eritrea was about to step out from behind a concrete pillar when she saw her cousin already face-to-face with Caster.

_Tawake_ _! What does he think he's doing?!_

"I see you're a smart one, boy." taunted the hooded servant.  
"Shirou? So it's not just Shinji, you are a master as well." said Kuzuki.

_"Very well, improvisation it is. We still hold the element of surprise. Once he's done questioning him, attack. Archer, Lancer, stand by."_

Both servants replied together.

 _"_ _Hai_ _,_ _waga_ _aruji_ _."_

"Kuzuki Sensei, are you being controlled by Caster?"  
"You're such an irritating child... Perhaps I should kill you." interrupted Caster.  
"Wait. What makes you say that, Shirou?"  
"You're a decent human being, aren't you? You couldn't possibly be turning a blind eye to what Caster is doing."  
"And what's that?"  
"Your servant has been leeching mana from people all across town. To her, humans are no more than sacrifices. As long as Caster keeps draining civilians, it won't be long until she kills someone. When that happens, she'll have done something that can't be fixed."

_Please. A man like_ _Kuzuki_ _, controlled? You really ask for too much, dear_ _Shirou_ _._

But Eritrea herself was curious, and she possessed a sliver of naïveté in hopes that her cousin was right.

"Naruhodo. You think that I, her master, was permitting her actions because I was under her control."  
"Exactly. If that's the case, we'll only defeat Caster. But if you gave her free rein, knowing what she was up to, then you're no different from a murderer. And I won't show you mercy either."

Shirou waited in suspense, a few seconds of silence sounding like an hour.

"No, this is the first time I've heard of this."

The boy smiled in relief, but it didn't last long.

"However, Shirou, are Caster's actions really so terrible?"  
"What... Did you say?"  
"Whether Caster kills people or you fight to the death, I will do nothing but watch. I will bear no responsibility for your fighting, nor should you bear responsibility for my life."  
"Kuzuki Sensei... You're a participant but you'd involved outsiders?!"  
"I won't participate in the war. Humans are mortal, after all. However they die, and at whose hands, the end result is the same."

The teacher turned to his servant.

"Caster, do what you will. Whether you take their lives or let them live is up to you."

_"Now."_

Archer fired a hail of arrows at Caster, which she took shelter from by conjuring one of her magic shields. Saber saw her chance and rushed up from behind to strike. Caster missed by a little, the tip of Excalibur searing her cloak.

Lancer on the other hand, had gone straight for Kuzuki. Caster cried out his name in desperation, it was too late. But then at the very last second, her master jumped to the side and dodged the fatal blow.

"You underestimate me, servant!"

Kuzuki continued to evade the attacks, enduring shallow cuts and the occasional gash from escaping by the skin of his teeth. His fists were fortified with magic, and he used them to knock Gae-Bolg away from him. This servant was fast; defeat would be impossible but he could at least avoid a killing blow.

By now, Eritrea had stepped out from her hiding place and pulled Shirou away to safety. Kuzuki jumped backwards, increasing the distance from Lancer. Out the corner of his eyes, he saw Eritrea.

Caster released a tremendous amount of mana, bolstering her attacks. One of which sent Saber catapulting into the petrol station. Then she made haste to her master and took to the skies with him.

They were assailed by a stream of arrows. Caster blocked them with a shield. It held, just. She swooped to the side and conjured a spell in her hand, ready to fire. But Kuzuki intervened.

"Wait, that's enough. Withdraw, Caster."  
"As you wish." replied the mage, vanishing with her master.

"...We blew it." breathed Eritrea, staring at the skies. "I underestimated our opponents."  
"Neesan..."  
"Let's go home. Return to my mansion tonight, we will discuss tactics in the morning."

Eritrea walked across the road to Lancer.

"Lancer, you alright?"  
"Of course, master. He just took me by surprise, that's all." grinned the servant.  
Eritrea nodded, "Let's go."

Lancer picked her up in his arms and led the party back to the residence.

As Eritrea was about to unlock the doors, she glanced downwards and saw an envelope with a red, circular marking. She picked it up and upon closer inspection, discovered it was a wax seal. The crest was familiar.

_Einzbern_ _._

She flipped the envelope over and saw a line of words written in elegant, flowing script.

_**To my dearest cousin, Eritrea** _ _**Yunani** _ _**.** _

_Illya_ _?_

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

****

**Chapter Eight: Epiphany**

"Master, you can't! It's suicide!" shouted Lancer, standing in front of Eritrea.  
"My relative and opponent has just extended an invitation to finish our fight. It would be most discourteous of me not to accept." answered the girl, seated on an armchair with her legs crossed, looking more relaxed than the situation called for.

All five of them had seen the letter they received the night before. Naturally, Lancer was first to object. But Eritrea silenced him and said that they would deliberate the matter come daylight. The battle with Caster had left her frazzled and frustrated. Everyone else agreed that a good night's rest would ensure their judgement was not clouded.

As Lancer rambled on, Eritrea read the letter in her hand again.

**_To Eritrea Yunani,_ **   
**_Dearest cousin, we never did draw a close to our previous battle. If you still wish to do so, meet us at the_ ** **_Einzbern_ ** **_grounds on Sunday afternoon. You're welcome to bring your allies, though I highly doubt numbers will be able to defeat my servant. Nevertheless, I wish for us to conclude our engagement with an honourable fight._ **

**_Regards,_ **   
**_Illyasviel_ ** **_Von_ ** **_Einzbern_ ** **_._ **

Eritrea chuckled wryly,  _Sunday afternoon_ _,_ _eh? It's like she's inviting me to a tea party._

Shirou sided with Lancer, "Neesan, to fight at the castle gives Berserker a home-field advantage. It's too dangerous."

Saber observed her master's cousin in silence. Being both a conqueror and a strategist, she was certain that Eritrea had something up her sleeve.

Archer was leaning against a window, irritated by all the jabbering. He saw Eritrea's lips turn upwards into a subtle, cunning smile.

"On the contrary, Illyasviel's invitation is perfect. This way, outsiders won't be involved. Archer's Reality Marble will be our element of surprise."  
"Archer's what?" said Shirou.  
"It's the materialization and projection of a person's inner world into reality. Simply put, the home-field advantage will be ours, not Illya's. Once inside, Saber, Lancer and Archer can go all out without worrying about collateral damage."

Lancer grinned sheepishly, "So you were planning to use that thing Archer summoned after our boxing workout last week. You could have said so sooner instead of letting me prattle on like that."  
"It was fun to watch." replied Eritrea, shrugging her shoulders.  
"Vixen." smirked Lancer.

It seemed everyone had settled on the strategy except for Shirou. He just stared at them, dumbfounded. He couldn't believe they'd come to a decision on such a weighty matter so quickly. It was as if waking up to fight vindictive mages and savage beasts was just another regular day for them.

"Look at the time, we'd best be going then."  
"Going?" inquired Shirou.  
"It's Friday, Shirou. We still have lessons at school."  
"But my uniform-"  
"I've asked Lancer to fetch it from your place. I'm going upstairs to get ready."

Under the steady stream of the shower-head, Eritrea frowned at the bathroom tiles as the water ran down her face. Last night, she did not ask Lancer to refrain from killing Kuzuki Sensei.

_He is a threat, that fact remains indisputable. Even so, I was more merciful to_ _Ryuunosuke_ _than him. Maybe because when_ _Kuzuki_ _looked at me, I knew he would kill me without hesitation if he wanted to. Did I let Lancer target him because I was afraid? That if it came to it, I wouldn't be able to kill him on my own?_

Eritrea twisted the knob and stepped out of the shower.

"Neesan, are we really going to school? At a time like this?" said Shirou as he saw his cousin descending the marble staircase.  
"Education is not something to be neglected, Shirou." answered Eritrea, admonishing him like a teacher would a disobedient child.

"Saber, make yourself at home. Lancer will take care of Shirou in school."  
"I will. Thank you, Eritrea." smiled the blonde knight.  
"Dawdle any longer and we'll miss a whole day! Come on, Shirou."

As luck would have it, the cousins entered class during free period, and their teacher wasn't around.

"Oh, thank God. Thank God." exclaimed Edward, hugging Eritrea.

As if the embrace wasn't suffocating enough, Alphonse came up from behind and did the same.

"We thought you were..."  
"No, of course not! Shirou and I just returned from an exhausting battle and we needed to strategize. I made you both worry. I'm sorry."

Eritrea gave the brothers a comforting smile, but inside she was thinking of the forthcoming battle with Berserker. If the three servants lost against the Herculean warrior, then it was all over. Though Eritrea would not suffer physically, she wouldn't know how to live with herself after that.

At noon the next day, Archer and Lancer stood beside their master at the gates of an enormous compound. Their keen eyes studied the enclosure, with its high walls and rows of barbed wire. Per Eritrea's request, Saber and Shirou had stayed behind to look after the mansion. Archer broke the silence.

"Why are we here?"

Lancer caught a glimpse of Eritrea's face. There was definitely some history behind this.

"To visit a certain someone."

A burly security officer stopped outside a door marked: 346.

"Someone's here to see you."

Meager shafts of light shone through the gloom and into the prisoner's eyes.

After being thoroughly searched, Eritrea sat waiting in a room filled with other visitors. The atmosphere was a clashing of both joy and misery.   
Some were having heartwarming reconciliations while others argued amongst themselves. Archer and Lancer looked on in silence, remaining incorporeal.

A teenager with hair that matched his orange jumpsuit sat opposite Eritrea and place his shackled palms on the table between them.

"How are you, Ryuunosuke?"

The former teen serial killer was pronounced guilty for the murder and kidnapping of thirty children. The judge presiding his case had decided he would serve eight years in Fuyuki Penitentiary.

"Better. I don't feel like dismembering every person I see."  
"That's good. Are they treating you well?"  
"As well as you can treat someone in prison." he jested.  
"How's your jaw? I'm sorry about that, by the way."  
The boy chuckled, rubbing the bone.   
"It throbs every now and then but it's okay. You really gave me a solid punch back then."

Eritrea smiled before her expression became contemplative.

"Why did you kill those children, Ryuunosuke?"  
"Why? Well back then it was just for fun. I just felt like it."  
"Would you consider it possible to kill for the greater good?"  
"That's a weird question for someone like you to ask."  
"If you had to stop someone from doing evil, would you stain your hands with their blood to accomplish that goal?"  
"I've never killed for that reason before so that's something you're goanna have to find out yourself."

Eritrea looked crestfallen. She had hoped that this visit would gain some perspective from an ex-killer's mind.

"But what I _do_ know," he continued, the girl looked up. "is that you should put up a fight for the ones you care about. I never got the chance for that, but I'm hoping things will turn around when I get outta here."

A new light shone in Eritrea's eyes. She just found the answer to something she had never questioned before.

"Time's up." said the security guard, moving towards the prisoner to bring him back to his cell.  
"Thank you, Ryuunosuke."  
"Thank _you_ for checking up on me."  
"I'll come visit again, take care."  
"By the way, I never got your name in the last war."

The female turned around and answered with a twinkle in her eye.

"Eritrea. Eritrea Yunani."

As Ryuunosuke walked through the corridors, guided by the security guard, he stared at his handcuffs and a small smile crept around the corners of his lips.

_Eritrea Yunani, huh? I hope you find all the answers you're looking for._

Back at the mansion, Eritrea was finishing her homework with Shirou. Saber stood sentry beside them, Lancer was wandering about the house and Archer, mom of the group, had left for the store to purchase some groceries.

"Ow!" shouted someone from the kitchen.   
Eritrea rushed in, afraid that Lancer may have cut himself by accident.   
"What happened?!"   
"I twisted my neck the wrong way trying to get something."   
"Oh." she replied, her usual calm returning. "Let me look at it then."

After a brief inspection, Eritrea concluded.

"You'll be fine, you just need to lie down for a while and massage the nape of your neck so it goes back in the right direction."   
"Alright. Thanks for your help, Eritrea. I don't know what I'd do without you." said Lancer. He had heard that last line in a soap opera and was putting it to the test.   
"No need to thank me. You should go lie down on your bed."

And he did, but he claimed that the pillow was uncomfortable for his neck. So they tried the couch instead. Again, same problem. Eritrea decided to switch out the pillow for a folded blanket. Still, Lancer complained.

"Mendokusai ne... It's either this or the options before. I don't have any other solution."   
"Well..." he began slowly, doing his best to stifle a cheeky smirk. "Could I maybe have the privilege of resting in your lap?"

She punched him hard in the shoulder.

"Yeah, when Hell freezes over."  
"But it hurts. Come on, I'll do anything if you let me just this once. It does hurt so terribly, you have no idea."

Despite how much he hated being called a dog, Lancer put on his best puppy face. He pouted while waiting for her response. Which she gave, albeit most reluctantly.

"Fine, but you're doing the dishes and the laundry by yourself for a week. Actually, make that two weeks. And you have to clean all the currently occupied rooms. Completely spotless, understand?"   
"Yes, master!"

Lancer spoke again when it seemed as if Eritrea wasn't moving.

"So, uh... Can I rest now or...?"   
She smacked him again, harder than before.   
"Hold on, pervert! I just need to get some things. Go wait on the couch."

He smirked as his master headed to her room, making sure she didn't see him pumping his fist in triumph. When Eritrea returned, she was carrying a novel and a dictionary.

Lancer could not mask the eagerness on his face, try as he might. She smiled while shaking her head. He looked like a highschool senior left alone with his crush—hormones raging and confidence unwavering. Eritrea plonked down on the couch next to Lancer before turning to face him.

"Well? Go ahead."

He proceeded to lie down in her lap, shifting a bit just to find a comfortable angle.

"Ah, this is pure bliss."   
"Yeah you won't be thinking that when you're cleaning all of those rooms."

Eritrea was already focused on her book. He simply grinned while looking up at her in adoration. They stayed that way for thirty minutes until Lancer decided to pose a question.

"Eritrea?"   
"Hmm?" she mused, still lost within the pages of her novel.  
"Do you know what it's like to fall in love?"   
She scoffed, "You're asking the wrong person, Lancer. How could I know of something I refuse to engage in?"   
"Why is it something you refuse to engage in?"

She answered Lancer with a question of her own.

"Why stake your sanity, time and effort on something so fragile? It's absurd. Trust me Lancer, you're better off not falling for that ruse. I know I am."

He thought he saw a change in expression on her face, from nonchalant to pensive. As if there was more to what she felt than she let on. Silence continued once more, then Eritrea's fingers began stroking his hair. An absent-minded action.

"Lancer, your hair is surprisingly silky."  
"Thank you, master."   
"It's really nice to touch. Do you mind?"   
"On the contrary. I like it when you take care of me, by the way."

At that moment, Archer walked in with shopping bags in both hands. Eritrea smiled brightly at him.

"Archer! You've returned. I've just realized how smooth Lancer's hair is."  
"What is he doing with his head in your lap?" growled Archer, trying to keep his cool.   
"Lancer hurt his neck just now. Don't worry, I'm making him pay for it. He'll be handling the laundry and dishes for two weeks, as well as the cleaning of our rooms."   
"I see. I'll start dinner then." he said, fuming.

_How dare that dog lay his head in her lap. I'm going to make sure his neck really hurts later._

Eritrea was arranging the dishes after dinner that night. Though she previously said that Lancer was to handle everything, she insisted that just once, he could be let off the hook. Also because she had the feeling that Archer wanted a moment alone with her.

"Why would you let that dog be in such intimate proximity with you?"   
"I knew what he was doing and I think I got the better end of the bargain, don't you? Most people would be thankful that a portion of their duties have been taken over by someone else."

Archer's steel-grey irises were like molten silver, boiling with fury.

"We don't even know he can be trusted. What if he takes advantage of you-"   
"Archer." Eritrea said sternly, looking up from the stack of plates she just forcefully put down on the counter.

His head turned in the other direction as he continued.

"I won't let that scum stand even ten centimeters from you, that lecherous dog-"

Eritrea was in front of her servant now. She place both hands on his face.

"Look at me."

It took a moment before he stopped rambling and did as he was told. 

"Do you trust me?"

Archer closed his eyes and sighed, moving his left hand upwards to grasp the one that was holding his face.

"Of course."   
"Then trust him." she smiled, expressing comfort. "Because I do."

A moment passed in silence as they continued looking at one another. Then he nodded once, closing his eyes.

"Okay."

By this time, Eritrea's left hand had lowered while her right remained where it was, clasped in her servant's. She smiled a little more now, stroking his handsome face.

"Now, go to bed. We're taking on Berserker tomorrow and you'll need all the rest you can get."

Both their hands fell but Archer held on to hers for a little while longer. She smiled once more before letting go.

"Goodnight, Archer."

He returned the gesture.

"Goodnight."

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

****

**Chapter Nine: A New Wish**

"Welcome, dear cousin. To the Einzbern Castle."

Eritrea smiled lightly at the little girl who curtsied to her, just a few meters away from Berserker. She looked at her surroundings. The polished marble and the ivory roses glistened in the afternoon heat.

The hour was different this time, yet the pain had not fully subsided. Little did the Einzbern heiress know, the blood of her cousin and opponent was once spilt upon these floors.

 _"Is_ _tú_ _mo_ _rogha_ _. Ha. You are not my chosen one."_

 _"Is_ _tú_ _a_ _chuisle_ _mo_ _chroí_ _."_

What wounded Eritrea at the time was not the blades her enemy had struck her with, but the torment in _his_ golden eyes. At that moment, it was as if the sun was looking down upon her, yet it refused to shine.

Or rather, it couldn't.

Archer placed one calloused palm on her shoulder and Illyasviel's voice rang out again.

"And nice to see you too onii-chan. Sa, shall we?"

Eritrea shifted her gaze from the ground to her servant, there was hardened resolve in those silver eyes. She nodded once and Archer transported them to the Reality Marble.

Eritrea looked at the roses one last time, remembering the petals that were once stained with her own blood. Then dust and sand swept them away from view.

"Where are we? Could this be..." gasped the homunculus.  
"Warui na, itoko."

Lancer took a moment to smile at the confidence of his master's voice.

"I had another ace up my sleeve."  
"I see. Doesn't matter anyway. Berserker, defeat them."

 _Twelve penances._ thought Eritrea as she surveyed the battle from a distance. _That's the number of times he can come back to life. Throughout this entire war, we have not once confronted servant Assassin._

Eritrea clenched her fist, recalling that it was that very same class of servant that had placed Diarmuid's life in danger and taken hers.

_No. That incident has passed, I'm here now. The battle before me is the one I must pay heed to. I cannot allow the seed of revenge to take root in my heart._

In one of Archer's past skirmishes as a Heroic Spirit, he had encountered the mad servant and managed to escape with minimal wounds. This experience enabled them to figure out Berserker's identity.

Inside the Reality Marble, it was difficult to tell how much time had passed. The scorching sun shone mercilessly upon this desert of swords and sand. By Eritrea's estimation, it had been an hour and a half.

In the course of that time, Lancer, Archer and Saber were kicked, punched and thrown around like rag dolls. That's not to say they didn't inflict injuries upon Heracles. Deep cuts marked the rippling muscles of Berserker but he continued his rampage, seemingly unaffected.

A hail of Archer's arrows fell upon Berserker like crimson rain, pinning him to the ground. Lancer jumped high, the tip of his spear aimed for the heart. Berserker raised his sword and blocked the attack. Saber swooped in and brought her sword down.

"EXCALIBUR!"

Before Eritrea and Shirou set out that day for the Einzbern castle, the latter used two of his command seals to give Saber sufficient mana for the multiple usage of her Noble Phantasm.

The battle with Berserker would be one of endurance and might, only the highest class of attacks would succeed in taking down their enemy. In accordance with the contract, Saber was not only relying on the strength of her blade and her comrades, but her master.

_Ten. They're working well together, using less powerful attacks as distractions while they alternate the utilization of their Noble Phantasms._

The clashing continued and Eritrea kept count. Slowly but surely, the penances decreased. However, Berserker's combatants were also heavily wounded.

As Saber swooped in for another blow, Berserker caught her by the neck, his death grip threatening to crush her windpipe. Her eyeballs bulged slightly as she choked for breath. Then Lancer pounced onto his arm and landed a cut before he released her.

 _Six more to go_. frowned Archer.

Lancer drew ten particularly hefty blades from the ground and kicked all of them in mid-air, spinning gracefully as he went. Archer fired arrows from behind and Saber arrived brandishing Excalibur as she called upon the holy sword, releasing its massive power.

Meanwhile, Eritrea observed Illyasviel. The homunculus was becoming increasingly frantic, stamping her foot and occasionally yanking at her hair. The next moment, Eritrea heard the loud boom of something hitting the earth.

Her servant, Archer, had just received the brunt of a very brutal beating. Illyasviel on the other hand, had finally hit the ceiling.

"Berserker! Keep fighting!"

Shirou observed his cousin. Wasn't she going to say something to her own servant?

"Neesan..."

Eritrea closed her eyes, one palm enclosed the other and settled on her chest. When her eyes opened, her arms had returned to their sides. She looked just like Lady Olivier.

"If you were brave enough to come with me, you are strong enough to defeat him."

Archer's silver eyes locked with his master's dark brown ones.

"Get up."

He spat blood onto the sand before a little smirk took over his features. Then he got to his feet and raised his weapons to continue.

Illyasviel had great love for her servant, but the homunculus also possessed great pride. As the heiress to the Einzbern house, she had a duty to fulfill in winning the Holy Grail.

When Berserker's penances had been cut down to three, she contemplated having her servant pull back. But pride stayed her hand. It was only at the last moment, when Illyasviel knew he had but one life left, did she decide to let love take over.

"Return to me, Berserker!" screamed Illyasviel, glowing red marks appearing all over her tiny body.   
"We are inside the Reality Marble, your servant may have immense strength but he doesn't possess the magical know-how to tear apart our surroundings." retorted Archer.

Dread and realization flooded Illyasviel's eyes, Saber and Lancer were now standing behind Archer at both sides as he continued.

"Did you really think, we would let him get away with a command seal?"

Berserker charged forward, our three musketeers did the same. But when one corners a savaged beast, that beast will soon develop a desperation to live. And it was with such desperation did Berserker attack.

At one point of the onslaught, Archer was tossed aside, landing on the dunes with Berserker fast approaching. A glimmer of hope shone in Illyasviel widened eyes and she shrieked.

"YES, NOW BERSERKER!"

The humongous servant disappeared from Archer's line of sight, replaced by a sinewy figure with long, blue hair. Lancer had arrived in the nick of time and parried the blow meant for Archer.

Saber was temporarily unconscious after taking Heracles's fist straight on by accident. In the distance, Eritrea saw Lancer turn to Archer, his lips were moving but she could not discern his words. Then he rushed forward to fight Berserker.

Lancer continued the scuffle—landing, blocking and sustaining a few blows.

"GAE-BOLG!" he thrust the crimson spear into Berserker's heart.

Silence.

And then...

"BERSERKER!"

Eritrea heard Illyasviel's cries but she herself had not said a word.

_I did it. Eritrea's goanna be so proud of me._

There was a wolfish grin on Lancer's face. He looked downwards.

_Takku_ _... I guess this really is the end, huh?_

With that, Lancer fell from the tip of Berserker's sword onto the sandy plains. Archer caught him and laid him down on the ground. Eritrea's feet—previously immobile from shock—now ran towards her fallen knight.

The great Herculean servant lay dead on the blood-stained battlefield, a red lance lodged deep into his heart. Already, Berserker was beginning to fade. Eritrea had left Illyasviel to mourn the loss of her servant while she hunched over her own.

Vermillion streaks ran down the sides of his mouth, his blue hair was strewn on the battlefield and copious amounts of blood gushed from the gaping wound Berserker had inflicted.

"No... No..."   
"Don't cry, lass. I'll be back before you know it." said Lancer, trying to keep his customary cheekiness intact. His hand stroked her face, wiping away the tears.

"Thank you... You saved us." cried Eritrea, taking Lancer's hand in her own.   
"I would gladly die a thousand times for you, lass. Never forget that."   
"I'll bring you back. I promise."   
"And my master keeps her promises." he answered with a smile.

Eritrea held his face in both hands and kissed his forehead with closed eyes. Lancer relished the touch, his heart filled with bliss and his soul at ease.

"Ah, if only for that one gesture, I would fight that giant ten times over."

They laughed through tears and pain at his parting repartee before Lancer spoke once more.

"When I come back, I'm goanna finish all those chores."   
"I'll hold you to that. Goodbye, Lancer."   
"See you very soon, lass."

He disappeared in a multitude of blue sparks, his toothy grin last to go.

Illyasviel had watched them from behind, touched at how much Eritrea cared for her servant. It reminded her of the bond she shared with Berserker. When Eritrea stood up, her expression softened.

"Illya, it's not safe for you to be alone in the war now that Berserker is dead. I think you should stay with Shirou and I."  
"You mean that?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes. "I can stay with you?"  
"Yes." she said, a sad smile on her face.

Illyasviel knew it wasn't her fault. Both their servants were strong, but there are no two winners in a fight. She rushed towards Eritrea, sobbing in her arms.

She looked down at the homunculus, stroking her hair. If she could not save Lancer, she could at least save this child.

Shirou was already helping Saber get on her feet while Eritrea walked over to Archer. With no small amount of struggle, he too stood up. One hand grasped his nape, pulling him close. Then Archer heard Eritrea's muffled voice as her face buried itself in the side of his neck.

"You're alive... You're alive..."

Something trickled down his neck and Archer realized it wasn't his perspiration but a grateful tear that had fallen from her eyes.

"The reason I could focus on the battle before me, was that I had you to stand behind me."

Eritrea tried her best to smile, but the painful passing of her other servant was still evident in her features.

"Let's go home."

The walk back to the mansion was quiet, but underneath her placid expressions, Eritrea's emotions and thoughts were in turmoil. An hour later, Saber, Shirou and Illyasviel were asleep.

Archer had used the last of his mana to heal the more severe injuries, now Eritrea was tending to the remaining wounds in her bedroom. As she wrapped his arms in bandages, Archer watched his master.

When it came to Eritrea, it wasn't crying for hours on end that he should be worried about. The picture of suffering and despair showed itself with the hunching of her shoulders and the look in her eyes that said she was dead inside. This was the time he really needed to be concerned.

"Eritrea... How do you plan on bringing Lancer back?"

Silence hung in the candlelit gloom between them.

"With the Grail."  
"But you said your wish was t-"  
"Do you want to stay here, Archer? With me?"

She caught Archer completely off-guard. 

_This is it. I have to tell her. I have to speak my mind before it's too late._

"I do."

Eritrea set aside the spool of bandage and clasped his left hand.

"Then will you make the wish in my place? There are other people I want to save."

Archer covered his master's hand with his right. He had finally found his wish.

"I will."

**Author's Note: '** **Warui** **na** **,** **itoko** **' means 'sorry, cousin.'**

 

 


	30. Chapter 30

****

**Chapter Ten: Way of the Samurai**

Morning came bright and early, but to the members of the household, even the radiance of the sun could not relieve their despondent mood. In their own ways, each of them had mourned the passing of Cú Chulainn. Seated at the head of the table, Eritrea Yunani took charge.

"It's been twelve hours since the last battle. In that time, I have sent separate spying drones to Fuyuki Church, Ryuudouji Temple and the abandoned Tohsaka mansion."  
"Neesan, what about the Fuyuki Municipal Hall?"  
"It only became a legitimate summoning location due to residual mana, since the Grail took form there in the previous war, its mana has been fully expended. In any case, only one of the drones was destroyed."  
"Ryuudouji Temple." said Archer.  
"Otherwise known as Caster's hideout. Thus far, we have not encountered servant Assassin and Caster has continued harvesting souls for power. It's only logical that we eliminate her first."  
"But neesan, Issei stays at the temple, he could get hurt!"

Eritrea slid that morning's newspaper across the table to her cousin.

**'Gas leak. 52 residents unconscious.'**

"Everyone was taken away in ambulances?"  
"That's right. This means Caster got rid of any interlopers ahead of time."  
"I would advise extreme caution, servant Caster has not yet made known her Noble Phantasm." chimed Saber. Eritrea put away the article and rose from her chair.  
"Rest up, we attack tomorrow night."  
Everyone agreed and the meeting was adjourned.

The next evening, Eritrea inspected the artillery Kiritsugu had left behind for her. A bottle of poison lay beside three rows of sharp throwing knives, a sniper rifle nestled comfortably in a dark corner, and a semi-automatic gleamed in the shadows.

Eritrea bent low, reaching for a box she had kept hidden from plain sight. Opening the lid, she took out the weapon from its cushion. Her slender fingers ran along the length of the Contender and rested on its walnut handle.

Meanwhile, Archer leaned against the window, thinking back to his battle with Berserker. In his mind, he saw Lancer turning around to look at him, his last words echoing in his ears.

_"You're the only one who can help her win."_

Archer woke from his flashback to see his master exiting the closet of artillery with a semi-automatic. Since Eritrea did not practice magic, Origin Rounds could not be created with her essence to load the Contender. It made no sense to use ordinary bullets since the gun fired too slowly. The weapon had only been kept as a reminder of her uncle.

Eritrea had avoided using guns thus far because she knew how much her cousin disliked them. But now, she would not hold back.

_I won't kill him. That doesn't mean I can't immobilize the man._

Eritrea looked up to see the moonlight shimmering in Archer's eyes and she mused inwardly.

_Argentum. Atomic number forty-seven._

Meanwhile, Shirou was sitting on the porch next to Saber, looking at the moon.

"A great many things have happened." began Saber. "I wish I could etch them into my mind so I would never forget."  
"If you can, I hope you will always remember."  
"I shall. Also, I am in your debt. Thank you, Shirou. It took quite some time, but you showed me the way. Forgive me, surely this makes no sense to you. But I wished to put my feelings into words. One dream has come to an end. Although I was unable to leave you anything, you have given me an answer that is more than sufficient."  
"Dream? You mean yours?"  
"Perhaps. Even if it is, it is the story of a little girl I would not recognize, one who no longer has anything to do with me."

Shirou gave Saber a sidelong glance. Even under the mountainous weight of her kingship, she was strong and beautiful.

"I once had a dream. Now, I have a favor to ask of you. I will be sure to protect both you and Eritrea. So make certain that you two return safely."  
"We'll all come home. Count on it. Let's settle this once and for all, Saber."

"Shirou?" said a voice from behind.  
"Hai, neesan?"  
"I've asked Illyasviel to remain here until we return. Are you ready?"  
"Yes, but should we really leave her all by herself?"  
"The women of our family are far stronger than you think, Shirou." remarked Eritrea.

With her dual katanas at one side and the semi-automatic at another, she headed for the door.

"Let's finish this."

The company arrived at Ryuudouji Temple without any problems, but when Saber stepped forth she could not enter. A barrier of some sort forbade her very presence.

"A bounded field that repels even the concept of Heroic Spirits?"  
"We have no choice but to enter the main gate then." said Archer.

Approaching the lengthy staircase, Eritrea spotted a man at the top. His build was slight but graceful. Saber halted at the foot of the stairs.

"If I may, what class of servant are you?"  
"The Assassin class servant, Sasaki Kojirou."  
"When my opponent identifies themselves, I am honor-bound as a knight to do the same. Once I have done so, I will make you step aside. My name-"  
"It matters not. My blade will tell me all I need to know of my enemy. If you wish to pass, then force your way through."

Assassin stepped forward and drew his katana, his long cobalt blue hair flowing with the movement. Though pressed for time and facing of a deadly opponent, Eritrea was enthralled by the servant before them. Assassin had yet to make the first move of attack, but she knew from his bearing and aura that this was a virtuoso of the katana.

"Never in my eyes has death looked so elegant."

Eritrea was in a slight trance when she voiced her thoughts, but Assassin heard the whisper and smiled proudly.

"Oh? You flatter me, young lady, perhaps I shall let you pass."

Saber stared long and hard at Sasaki, then turned to Eritrea.

"Take Shirou and Archer with you. There's no time to lose."  
"Come back to us in one piece, Saber." said Shirou, giving her palm a firm squeeze.  
Eritrea nodded and laid one hand on her shoulder, "See you on the other side."

"Are you permitting us entry, servant Assassin?" asked Eritrea, looking upon the samurai. His gaze was as piercing as the blade in his hand.  
"I am. I'm certain that Saber here will prove a worthy opponent to occupy myself with."

Time was of the essence, but Eritrea decided she would ask just one more question.

"Why are you letting us pass?"  
"You have a keen eye, ojousan. An ability to discern things of elegance and worth."   
A mischievous grin crept into the corners of his lips.  
"Besides, you three should be able to give that old witch a good scare."

Eritrea chuckled.

_I'm hoping to do more than just frighten her._

"Very well."

Once the two were alone, the dual began. A masterful clash of the East and the West. Saber's broad, powerful attacks against Assassin's swift, long strokes. In minutes, Arturia was pushed back to her earlier position. She furrowed her brows, gazing upon her opponent who wore a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

_How can this be? Heft, power, speed... I have the advantage in every field. Why can't I break his defense?_

"Oh, well done. I should have taken your head seven times by now yet it remains attached. It appears Western swordplay is more than mere flailing after all."  
"I commend you as well. For a man of such slight build, your technique is impressive. If nothing else, you are skilled in trickery."  
"Of course. You hold the upper hand in both strength and spirit. That leaves me only my wiles to defeat you. I have also nearly adjusted to your invisible sword."

_From that brief exchange of blows? Does this servant surpass me so greatly in sword technique?_

"Now, let us continue." said Assassin. "Show me what you are really capable of."

As they clashed again, Saber asked, "What business do you have guarding the temple's gates?"  
"Mine is a unique case, you see. I am a false servant, summoned here by Caster, with this location acting as my anchor. As a result, I am a guard dog who can only appear at this main gate."

Assassin pivoted his blade sideways and lunged forward, his sword a deadly sliver of moonlight threatening to slice Saber into pieces. She dodged the attack, a few blonde strands falling to the ground after drawing too close to the razor sharp edge of the samurai's katana.

"It seems that matters do not progress as planned up there. My master is unexpectedly hard-pressed, her prying eyes are not watching us anymore. With that said, I no longer have the luxury of concealing my true skill. Even now, you will not reveal your Noble Phantasm."

Assassin descended the steps, coming to equal ground with Saber.

"You yield the advantage of higher ground? What are you playing at?"  
"I may not be a true servant, but I have devoted my life to the sword. If I cannot convince you to give your all for this fight, shall I break open that belief with brute force?"

Assassin took his stance and drew his katana back with its sharpened edge facing the sky. One knee was bent forward while the other remained straight.

"Secret Technique, Swallow Reversal!"

Darkness enveloped Saber, then from the shadows three indigo blades sprang forth, forming lethal, immaculate arcs. She somersaulted sideways and landed a few steps below Assassin.

"You withstood my secret technique. It isn't all that special, as tricks go. Simply something I mastered when I thought to slay a swallow. A flying swallow will not be caught by my sword, which is but a single line. But with two or three lines, matters change somewhat."

Dry leaves illuminated by the glaring moonlight fell all around them, amplifying the grandeur of the battlefield.

"However, swallows are swift little things. To succeed, one must strike repeatedly within a single breath. A feat beyond the ability of any normal man. Unfortunately, I had nothing better to do. Mastery through endless repetition. The next thing I knew, I had accomplished it."

_That isn't right. 'Strike repeatedly within a single breath'? Those blows were simultaneous. At that instant, three swords existed. As difficult as it is to believe..._

"There was a dimensional warp. A servant who, through conventional swordsmanship alone, created a technique on par with a Noble Phantasm... Incredible."

Assassin jumped down, swinging his sword as he went. Saber parried the blow with her gauntlet and made a counterattack.

"Truth be told, there has never been any meaning to me fighting. For I have neither the pride of a Heroic Spirit nor any wish to be granted. After all, I am not even Sasaki Kojirou."

Assassin smiled at Saber's expression.

"You needn't be so astonished. A man named Sasaki Kojirou likely existed at one point. Sasaki Kojirou, who people said acted as a foil to some noble swordsman, was merely a fictional entity."  
"A fictional Heroic Spirit..."  
"Indeed. Sasaki Kojirou is a mantle. I was only the swordsman best suited to wear it. I have no name. I was able to perform the techniques attributed in records to Sasaki Kojirou. That is the sole purpose of my summoning. I am just a ghost."

Assassin's cobalt blue eyes held a wistful gaze, one that longed for a reason and opportunity to be.

"So you see, there was never any meaning to it. I am empty, so nothing has meaning for me. However... If one thing could be said to give my existence meaning, it would be this moment. To find a worthy opponent is a rare thing."

He lunged forward, his sword meeting Saber's, each trying to force the other back.

"Our positions..." began Saber. "Assassin, are you..."

_If I disengage from this man, he will employ it. That devilish sword technique._

"Is it wise to pull your blows?" he asked. "In this position, I could send you flying."  
"Is that why you deliberately entered my striking range?"  
"Of course. When in a dual, do not let your mind wander to what may come after."

_If I withdraw from striking range, that leaves me vulnerable to his technique._

"Why do you hesitate? Just as I guard this gate, you guard something of your own. Having said that, there is no room for doubt."  
"I have done you a discourtesy, forgive me. As you say, we are both running out of time."

Saber summoned Excalibur, the Invisible Air vanished to reveal the incandescence of the holy sword. Its force from merely being awakened was enough to propel Assassin back a few paces.

The samurai's breath caught in his throat, awestruck by the sheer brilliance of the blade and its wielder. He smiled in satisfaction and took his stance.

In the next moment, time slowed down and the surroundings blurred out into darkness. The only visible light was that which came from a gleaming katana and a broad, luminous sword. Then it came, swift and unwavering.

The first stroke.   
The second, dead-centre.  
And the final sweeping cut.

"Secret Technique, Swallow Reversal!"

Saber glided sideways and swung the Sword of Promised Victory, making a clean gash. A stillness clung to the air before blood spurted from Assassin's torso, staining his beautiful indigo robes. He staggered forward before raising his head. The two opponents stood back-to-back.

"Go."

Arturia turned her head slightly to deliver her parting words.

"You were truly an opponent worthy of my full attention."

Assassin held onto his katana, a crack in its golden hilt.

"I had thought her a lovely little bird." he sighed. "But she was in fact a lioness."

Succumbing to his weariness, he sat down on the steps.

"And here I considered myself a fair judge of women." he said, a wry and tranquil smile on his face as he gazed up at the moon. "I suppose my training in that art is equally wanting."

Assassin closed his eyes, relishing the feel of a passing evening breeze. In a shimmering haze of amethyst sparks, Sasaki Kojirou's tale had come to an end.

 

**Author's Note: I won't be using Shinji or Illya as the vessel in the final battle.**


	31. Chapter 31

****

**Chapter Eleven: The Final Showdown**

When Medea heard the footsteps of her enemy, she didn't even spare them a glance. Her hooded eyes were fixated on something else.

"It's taking form now... All I need are three more souls to increase its potency. Once I've eliminated Archer, Saber and that dog, Assassin, the Grail will finally be complete."  
"I see your master has also decided to play along with your lunacy." replied Eritrea, staring at Kuzuki Sensei.  
"Children these days are so impertinent, I suppose I'll have to kill you as well."  
"Ha! I'll definitely die, there's no denying that."

Shirou turned to look at his neesan and he saw adamantine determination in her eyes.

"But not today, and not by your hand."

The wind howled around them. Foreign, as if coming from a distant land. A swirling mass of dust and sand obstructed their view as Archer transported them away from the temple. When the dust had literally and figuratively settled, Medea opened her eyes.

"A Reality Marble? Your servant is a fascinating one, ojousan. Such a pity..."

Caster took flight, spreading her cape like the wings of a hellish butterfly. Scarlet and purple runes on the fabric further illustrated the image. Nine magic circles were conjured, ready to blast their targets to kingdom come. Archer let fly a flurry of arrows in Caster's direction but they were obliterated by the magic circles.

_You vixen. You really have a huge store of_ _mana_ _to draw from, don't you?_

"You're rather gracious to be leaving my master alone."  
"Souichirou-sama has his own pride. I'm sure he'll finish off those children in no time. But if they get in the way, I can't guarantee I won't be tempted to inflict a wound or two."

Across the dunes, another fight was taking place. Eritrea aimed carefully at Kuzuki, making sure she didn't hit vital spots. But this moving target was unlike any other. His speed and power by human terms had no equal, save for one now-deceased priest. Eritrea switched to her katanas in close-quarters, warding off his punches as best as she could.

Shirou drew his own sword and came charging in to help his cousin. His presence allowed Eritrea just one second to land a cut, but since the boy was not an expert with blades, his attacks could only serve as a temporary diversion. In moments, Kuzuki kicked him in the chest, sending him flying all the way into the fighting territory of the servants.

"Shirou!"

A punch landed on Eritrea's swords, pulling back her attention.

"Do you think you have the time to be looking elsewhere?"

Eritrea parried blow after blow. The teacher's attacks came with such rapid succession that she could only remain on the defensive.

Eritrea pushed back hard and drew the semi-automatic, increasing the distance between them with suppressive fire. Then she raced towards the ginger-head who lay unmoved in the hot sand.

_The thoracic cavity is broken._

Tears welled up in her eyes.

_I failed you,_ _Kiritsugu_ _. I didn't protect him._

Shirou's chest started rising and falling. His mouth took in deep breaths and he shot up, awake and astonished.

_Masaka_ _. He's not suppose to be breathing anymore. Unless..._

The ginger patted his chest and turned to look at Eritrea, wide-eyed.

"Neesan?"  
"Avalon..." gasped Eritrea, the air stolen from her lungs instead of Shirou's.

_The only possible explanation for his revival is the scabbard._ _Kiritsugu_ _must have somehow implanted a link to Saber. Its healing abilities transcended even the confines of a Reality Marble and saved_ _Shirou's_ _life._

Caster looked over her shoulder and smiled, conjuring another magic circle at her back. Eritrea looked up, grasping their predicament.

_Shimatta_ _._

The pair wrapped their arms around one another, closing their eyes as they braced for impact. But it never came. Had the spell been so powerful that they died instantaneously?

Eritrea lifted her head and saw Archer standing with his back to her. Before them was the most magnificent flower she had ever laid eyes on.

The seven petals of Rho Aias were unfurled. A shield of blinding brilliance in full bloom. Caster's incessant magical attacks penetrated each layer of the shield until it arrived at the final one. A crack appeared on the Sakura flower and Eritrea held her breath.

After a heart-pounding moment, the onslaught dissipated into thin air. Up in the skies, Medea cackled, amused by the integrity of Archer's magecraft. She sighed dramatically.

"I really didn't want to do this, especially in a magical construction as elaborate as a Reality Marble. But I guess it can't be helped. Even if using it here will drain me, I'll still have enough magic to kill all of you!"

Caster reached into the folds of her cloak and brandished a blade.

"This is my Noble Phantasm, Rule Breaker! It nullifies any and all magic cast in this world. The dagger of betrayal and denial."

Medea raised the weapon to the heavens and summoned its magic. Red lightning shot upwards from the tip and took apart the Reality Marble.

Their surroundings fizzled like distorted images on a faulty television. Eritrea lost her bearings and blacked out in her servant's arms along with Shirou.

When she came to, they were standing once again in Ryuudouji Temple. The Grail had released a gigantic hole in the sky. Foul curses poured out from its mouth, enervating the civilians as it drew their souls in to feed itself.

Simultaneously, a volcano had emerged from the grounds, pulverizing tile and brick. Lava shot skywards to the infernal hole, causing large drops of fire to rain from the darkened sky.

"And here I thought we were trying to be discreet." remarked Eritrea, gazing at the damaged premises.

_I hope_ _Issei_ _won't be too upset._

Archer's voice entered Eritrea's mind.

_"We can worry about real estate later. There's a battle to finish here."_

He was right. Defeating their opponents and saving the citizens of Fuyuki now were of paramount importance.

Caster resumed the battle and Archer leaped backwards, leading the attacks away from his master. Shirou was recovering rather quickly, but with his average swordsmanship and injuries, he would be no good in a fight.

Meanwhile, Eritrea stared down the bespectacled man before her. She always thought those blank eyes held an erudite quality about them. But now that Kuzuki Sensei had taken off his glasses, she saw also that there wasn't a trace of hesitation. Eritrea picked up the semi-automatic.

"Stop this. We only wish to end the destruction of Fuyuki. It makes no sense for any more blood to be spilled."  
"This was something that I started. Therefore, I must see it to its end."  
"Take another step and I'll blast your kneecaps clean off."  
"You wouldn't."  
"Would you like to test that theory?"

Kuzuki Sensei stopped in his tracks and observed the teenager. She wasn't lying. After a moment's consideration, he continued walking towards her. Eritrea took a step in front of her cousin.

"Nani o shiteru-"  
"You'll graze my legs at best if I run. Shooting a practice target is one thing, but taking a life is another. And with our circumstances, you don't have any other choice."

Eritrea resorted to suppressive fire, but Kuzuki's superhuman speed kept him out of harm's way. Two bullets however, managed to find their mark. One hit his left forearm while the other punctured his right thigh. Even under excruciating pain, he dashed forward.

Eritrea was beginning to lose her nerve, the bullets were running out and danger was closing in. Archer could not save them now. In these last crucial seconds, she would have to make a decision.

"Stop... STOP! Or I'll kill you!"  
"You may have some skill with a gun, but you lack experience."

Though Eritrea held the semi-automatic, it seemed as though Kuzuki had fired the bullet. Whether it granted you release or shattered your illusions, the truth would always set you free. But this time, Eritrea only felt imprisoned by it. With two hands on the semi-automatic, she whispered with a shaky breath.

"Stop..."

Amidst the internal conflict, a promise shot out of the dark. The promise she made to keep her cousin safe. Eritrea turned around to look at Shirou, passed out on the floor.

Steeling herself, she faced her enemy and raised the barrel of her gun to the widest target available. One where she would have the highest chance of landing a fatal wound—his chest. Her finger hooked around the trigger, preparing to make the shot.

"Don't, Eritrea."

The teenager inhaled sharply at the kingly and benevolent voice. Saber smiled, then directed her attention to the enemy. Before charging ahead, she spoke again.

"Once you do, there's no turning back."

After dealing the finishing blow, Saber rushed to Eritrea's side.

"Is Shirou alright?"  
"He's alive, I'm sure he'll wake up soon."   
Saber rested one hand on Eritrea's shoulder, "You've done well."

Eritrea returned the smile, then screamed.

"SABER!"

She seized Arturia's shoulders, trying to push her aside. But the King of Knights beat her to it, sacrificing herself instead.

Archer sprinted towards Eritrea and her cousin, grabbing them and getting to safety. In Archer's arms, she discerned the fallen figure of Arturia Pendragon. 

Eritrea's nails dug into her palm.

She needed to win.

No.

She was going to win.

Archer flung his master and Shirou aside as gently as the laws of force and gravity allowed. When Eritrea got up, her servant was already trapped in a purple dome.

"How does that feel, Archer? Even the three knight classes cannot move if space itself is immobilized. This would appear to be checkmate. I don't know which Hero you were, but this is farewell. Perhaps I should have tortured Saber before killing her. No matter, I still have those two brats."

Within the occult prison cell, Archer's lips moved with strained effort.

"What was that, Archer? If you wish to beg for your life, I can-"  
"Tawake! I said, 'dodge this.' Caster!"

Two blades from the periphery of the magical barrier hit Caster's staff before returning to their owner. The force-field fractured like broken glass. Medea seethed as she fired more spells at Archer. He jumped high, evading the destructive attacks as he conjured a bow and arrow.

Landing on the gravel, he drew the bowstring. His arrow, which could have been previously mistaken for a jousting lance, lengthened like a spring.

Meanwhile, Shirou had awoken and was observing Archer with his neesan. Though an amateur when it came to magecraft, he knew without a doubt that spiritual energy overflowed from that weapon of mass destruction.

"I am the bone of my sword. Caladbolg!"

Caster shrieked, focusing all her energy into a shield. But it did no good. Archer's arrow was like a deadly shooting star, its heat and power far too much for even the Princess of Colchis to endure.

A figure emerged from the debris, limping and bleeding. Caster's robes were now tattered and scorched and the venom in her tone was apparent.

"You think... I can be... So easily defeated...?"

With a wrathful scream, Caster used whatever strength she had left and soared above them. The force of the volcano made it difficult for those on the ground to keep their balance. All around them, fire rained from the sky and spread throughout the earth.

Caster was struggling to survive, while Archer was wounded and fatigued from the substantial exertion of mana. He would be able to continue fighting, to the death if need be, but the effort was no less strenuous.

Eritrea drew a single katana blade from her side and submerged it in one of the fires, all the while chuckling to herself.

_How nostalgic._

Caster employed the last traces of her magic. If she was to perish here, she would drag her opponent into the clutches of death along with her. Archer prepared to attack but he felt a firm hand in his way.

Wordlessly, Eritrea stepped in front of her servant, gripping the flaming sword.

"This is so last year." she said, before launching the katana straight for the hooded mage. Simultaneously, Caster released her final spell. Severely injured and bordering on insanity, she failed to dodge the fiery blade as it went between her eyes and out the back of her skull.

Somewhere within the Holy Grail, the spirits of two distinguished lancers were smiling down at her in pride. It appears the Caster class servants of this war and the last were destined to die from head injuries.

 _History repeats itself._ mused Eritrea.   
_Did I really just think that? That was so cliché. Oh, the shame._

Archer made a dive for his master, tackling her to the ground. But the spell was too quick and though she avoided the brunt of the attack, she had not escaped entirely.

When they landed at the foot of the volcano, Eritrea watched the hooded servant fall to earth and pounded the ash-ridden slope with her fist, eyes blazing with triumph.

Then she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. Inspecting her wound she saw blood blooming like a fresh rose. Gripping the place where Caster had struck her, Eritrea looked to the skies.

"We won."

Her vision began to blur, and death seemed far more appealing in that moment; eternal rest such a sweet alternative to climbing the volcano. Before she could yield to the darkness, a grave, baritone voice growled.

"Oh no, you don't. We're not finished here just yet."

Swooping his master into his arms, Archer began the perilous ascent to the volcano's mouth. The violent force of its inferno threatened to throw them off the declivity.

"Come on, Eritrea! You still have a wish to make!"

Archer shook his master to keep her awake. She didn't answer. All she did was focus on his expressions. Even in the midst of chaos, she could still appreciate his handsome features, made even more dashing as tiny sparks and specks of ash floated in the air.

Archer's steel-grey eyes no longer carried their usual smugness, replaced now by insuppressible conviction. His chiseled jawline tensed as he gritted through the pain and effort in carrying them both to the top.

Reaching the volcano's mouth, he set Eritrea down on her feet, supporting her weight and giving her balance. She stumbled forward and Archer caught her, shifting his body for his master to use as a crutch. But she pushed him aside.

"No. This is something I must finish on my own."

He slowly withdrew, staring at her in veneration as she made her way to the very edge of the gaping hole. Eritrea ignored the pain, standing tall.

Standing precariously near the volcano's mouth, she shouted at the black hole above her.

"I am the champion of the Holy Grail War and I have come to claim what is rightfully mine!"

The dark pit roiled in displeasure, reluctant in sharing its power.

"Speak, and whatever you and your servant desire shall be granted."

Eritrea looked at the inferno before her and saw clearly in her mind the five faces of the people she hoped to save.

She remembered her uncle being unable to make this wish when he had the opportunity, and for a moment she hesitated.

_What if my wish only brings about the destruction of mankind? No. No, this is the ultimate test. The moment when it's most difficult to trust Him, is the moment I must trust Him the most._

Eritrea opened her eyes, an inextinguishable flame burning within.

"My servant wishes for the permanent end of the Holy Grail War."   
The Grail rumbled, "Is this true, servant Archer?"  
"It is." replied Archer. Eritrea continued.  
"I wish for servant Archer to remain in this world as a human being and the servants Arturia Pendragon, Cú Chulainn, King Iskandar and Diarmuid to return not as slaves for the Grail but as mortals of their own volition."

Eritrea turned to smile at Archer as she uttered the last words, her long hair flying behind her as she stood against the conflagrant backdrop.

There were not many times Archer had had his breath taken away. In years to come, he would tell his former master that this was one of those rare moments.

The Grail laughed menacingly.

"So be it."

Instantly, the volcano closed up. The fires that ignited as a result of the flaming rain disappeared without a trace. At the bottom of the slope, the aforementioned servants manifested. From where they stood watching, a circle of golden light enveloped them.

Each felt the chains of submission breaking away like fragile porcelain, the years of burden swept away like dust. Their strength was renewed and their spirits invigorated. Archer's mystical weapons disappeared with a cloud of dust, leaving only his battle regalia. Like the others who had materialized, he was now human.

Then the Grail started spinning, gathering speed and energy, returning the souls it had taken as it grew smaller and smaller. It diminished to a star that winked out of existence. The star exploded with an earsplitting boom, pushing away the dark clouds and replacing them with a magnificent sunrise.

The subsequent vibrations threw Eritrea off her balance. Archer leaped forward to catch his master. A weak smile rested on her lips as she fell into his arms. The wound had worsened in all that time, the blood now forming a pool that soaked through her garments. Archer's heart lurched at the sight.

From the corners of her vision, Eritrea saw Saber approaching Shirou and picking him up. Worries assuaged, she touched her former servant's face.

"My Father's work is done."   
He clasped her hand in his.  
"And now it's time to heal that wound. Hold on."

With that, he sprinted from the ground, speeding towards the mansion with all the mortal strength he now possessed.

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

****

**Chapter Twelve: A Missing Piece**

Eritrea awoke in bed to the pleasant sound of birdsong outside her window. Bright morning sun filtered through the gaps of the curtains. She closed her eyes, enjoying the tranquility in this moment.

The victor of the fifth Holy Grail War shifted her body to sit up straight, wincing at the acute pain that one simple movement brought. She tossed aside her blanket, and remembered the wound that was not fully healed yet.

"Ah, well." she sighed. "No more running amuck for a while now it seems."

Then she heard noise in the distance.

_Five people. No, six. Cutlery. Bickering. Oh boy._

The door burst open and four former servants entered the room, three of which crashed into one another along with a ginger-haired boy and a little girl. A tray of food nearly spilled in the process.

Eritrea chuckled quietly at the sight of the clumsy band of baboons before composing herself. Clearing her throat, she waited for the said primates to pull themselves together.

Four of them hastily got up, occasionally banging into each other as they went. Eritrea had witnessed more graceful wild boars.

Archer however, had contrived to remain out of harm's way, standing proudly at one side as he scoffed at the rest. Shirou approached his cousin, only to be shoved aside by the homunculus.

"Ohayo, neesan!"   
Eritrea's arms caught the little girl who pounced onto her bed, ruffling her hair fondly.  
"Ohayo, Illya."

"Hope you're feeling better, neesan. I've made you some broth and your usual green tea."   
"Thank you, Shirou. You're a gem."

Sensing that the others wanted a word alone with Eritrea, he place the tray of food on her bedside table and left the room with Illya trailing behind him. Saber stepped forward.

"You saved my life, now I am free to make one of my own. I promise you that from this day forth I will protect you, not as a servant but a friend whose debt can never be repaid."   
"I am honored to accept your offer, my friend." she smiled. King Iskandar spoke next.

"You granted me the wish I could not make for myself, there is no other way I could hope to repay that other than my eternal friendship."   
"And that friendship is one I will always cherish." said Eritrea, then a thought pierced through her mind.

_Wait, there are only four of them.  
_

"Where is Diarmuid?"   
At this, their heads hung low.  
"I'm afraid we don't know either. None of us saw him upon materializing." answered Rider.  
"Impossible, I included him in my wish to the Grail."  
"We searched the entire area but no one was found. I'm sorry, Eritrea."

Her face fell at his words and her eyes drifted to the end of the bedsheets, unsure of what to say next.

_Kiritsugu was right. Whatever wish you made to the Grail would always come with a catch. This was it._

In a way, Eritrea had won the battle but lost the war. Lancer, not wishing to see her upset, finally approached her.

"Before you saved me, my spear was a cursed weapon; I was a cursed weapon. An expendable tool to accomplish the deeds of the Grail. But you've set me free, and for that I owe you my life."   
Eritrea stroked his face, "Thank you, Lancer."

Archer had not said a word in all that time, choosing to observe for the moment. Then all four of the former Heroic Spirits knelt on one knee, their heads bowing low. Eritrea got up from the bed.

"My friends," they gazed up at her as she continued. "you bow to no one."

Radiant smiles adorned their faces as they got up. Lancer came close to Eritrea with a cheeky smirk.

"So... What do you say we go out to dinner when you're all recovered?"

Eritrea's eyes widened slightly, then she broke into laughter upon remembering the kind of person she had saved. Archer walked towards Lancer, pulling him away from Eritrea by the ear.

"Ah. Ah. Ah. Be gentle, Archer!" yelped Lancer as he was dragged closer to the door.   
"Go make yourself useful and prepare breakfast with Shirou." Archer replied tersely. "Saber, follow Lancer and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

The blonde knight pushed Lancer out the door as the rest of them left the room.

"Come along, Lancer. You have plenty of time to woo Eritrea when Archer's finished."   
Lancer protested, "Oh come on, why does he get to be the first one-"

The rest of his complaints were muffled by the door as it shut, finally leaving the two alone. The sunlight cast a long shadow as Archer faced his former master. They looked into each other's eyes and drifted off into their minds.

Friends. Comrades in battle. A team. But they could have been more.

_If only she would let me._   
_If only I would let myself._

Each thought to themselves at the same time.

Archer was first to wake from the daze, dismissing it as nothing more than wishful thinking. A reality far beyond his reach, no matter how desperately he fought for it.

"Sit back, I'm going to change the bandage on that wound." Gentle, unlike his customary sarcastic and pessimistic nature.

Eritrea willingly complied. While Archer cleaned the wound and covered it with a fresh bandage, she kept her eyes fixed on him.

"You've always rushed to my side in times of peril and need. Even now, after the battle has ended, you're still saving me. Just once, I'd like to be the one to save you."

Eritrea's words broke down the walls he had tried so hard to keep up, the ones that isolated himself from his emotions. Now everything Archer kept hidden inside came rushing out like a waterfall. 

"You already have. You still do, every day. When I see you wake up in the morning, when I watch you come down the staircase on your way to school, when I go into battle knowing you're always behind me. For so long I've been a disposable tool, dying and coming back just to clean up the world's mistakes. I don't want that anymore. I want a life, and I want it with you."

Archer paused for a moment, gathering the courage to say, what he had always wanted to say.

"I love you, Eritrea. And I want to spend this life by your side, if you'll have me."

She smiled, sorrowful, "Archer..."

She stopped, her mind returning to the former servant whose golden eyes were supposed to be the first rays of light that dawned upon her face.

"I need time right now. Diarmuid is still missing, I have to find him. I'm not saying no it's just, I don't think it's wise for you to do this."  
"You don't have to worry about me, I've made my choice. We'll find him together."   
He smiled, clasping her hands in his.  
Eritrea looked up at him.  
"Thank you."

They pressed their foreheads together and closed their eyes. In the peace and quietness of that moment, none of them could conceive how turbulent things would soon become. Each believing that even if they didn't have everything, they had each other. That all would be well because neither of them was going anywhere.

Unfortunately, dreams do not always become reality, and the ones that do are not always comforting.

 **One** **month after the Holy Grail War.**  
Eritrea parted the age-old double doors of the church.

_I feel like Aragorn when he returned to Helm's Deep after the ambush._

The rays of sunset shone through several stained-glass windows, throwing colored light across the interior. Standing beside one of the pews was Pastor Alex Louis Armstrong. Upon hearing the sound of the doors opening, the man turned around, giving Eritrea a warm smile. She responded in kind.

Pastor Alex sat beside Eritrea, glancing at the windows.

"So what now?" he asked.

The brief silence that came after his words gave Eritrea the feeling she had whenever she gazed at the horizon.

The feeling that there was no place she couldn't go, no goal she couldn't accomplish. The feeling of endless possibilities and adventures.

She could tell him anything. Her future was a blank canvas, infinite colours at her side and the paintbrush in her hand. Her next words would be the first stroke.

"I'm going to Africa, with a group that will build schools for children and preach the Word to the villagers. But first, I'm heading to England."  
"It's always one adventure after the next with you, isn't it? What are you going to England for?"   
"To see an old friend. Don't worry. I'll be back soon enough."

_No, you won't._

But Pastor Alex said something else.

"I won't ask you about college. In my opinion, it never really suited you."

They chuckled lightly and continued sitting in silence before Eritrea stood up to face the priest.

"Goodbye, Alex."  
"No need to sound so final about it."  
He got on his feet and wrapped her in a hug.  
"Farewell, Eritrea."

Pastor Alex watched the seventeen year old walk out the doors with a fond smile on his face. He knew that even though she had emerged victorious in one battle, she still had another ahead of her.

Eritrea needed to find herself, the purpose for her existence. She needed to discover the place where she truly belonged and chart a course towards that direction.

It was likely, he would never see her again.

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

****

**Chapter Thirteen: Uncharted Waters**

**Clocktower, London.**  
It had been an arduous day of meetings for Waver Velvet. He had recently put together an organization to save children with magus capabilities who were abandoned or abused for their powers.

The Association, he called it. They were to be a covert force that kept the balance of the magus world, conducting rescue missions and the retrieval of sensitive information. A simple name helped maintain its secrecy, the British prodigy never really liked flamboyance anyway.

_A cup of English tea would be perfect right now._

Thought Waver as he opened the door to his apartment. He placed his bag on a chair, pausing to smile at a framed picture on the shelf. It was taken when his former servant, Rider, paid him a visit. Looking at the photograph, he felt a little sad.

When he had taken in Eritrea for recovery during the fourth Holy Grail War, he told her about his intentions to come to the Clocktower once the war was over. He'd have liked her to see the organization that had taken a whole year to establish.

Waver brushed off the thought and turned the corner, entering his kitchen. He grabbed a porcelain cup and saucer, tip-toed to reach for a jar of tea leaves, and opened a pantry to get the sugar and cream.

"I still prefer green tea."

Waver shrieked and turned around, his hand knocking the teacup off the surface. There, sitting on the ledge of the window with a smirk on her face, was...

"Eritrea?!"  
"Seriously, I don't know why you drink this stuff." she said, wrinkling her nose at the contents of her cup.  
"Y-You... How did-"  
"No, I'm not a ghost and no, this isn't a dream. Yes, you should try drinking green tea, it tastes a lot better."  
"But how?!" he spluttered.

Eritrea hopped off the ledge and set the teacup down on the table next to Waver. Her smirk had not diminished in the least, obviously enjoying his reaction. She shrugged her shoulders.

"God loves me."

Waver's mouth remained opened but no rebuttal came. Eritrea broke into peals of laughter and hugged him close.

"I've missed you, my friend."  
Feeling the warmth of her embrace, he returned it, smiling.  
"So have I."

When she withdrew, her mischievous grin turned into a grave expression.

"God granted me life once more because my task was not completed. But it's finished now. The Holy Grail Wars are over, for good."  
He stared wide-eyed, then pulled her into another hug.  
"Yokatta."

"So what have you been doing in my absence, hmm?"  
"I'm now in charge of an organization that rescues magus children who have been mistreated or have nowhere to go. It's doing well, but we just started so I've been worn out with all the long hours."  
"What's it called?"  
"The Association."  
"Simple." Eritrea smiled. "I like it."  
"Thought you might. What about you?"  
"I've got a trip to Africa for two months ahead of me. We'll be building schools and preaching the Gospel. But I'm heading back to Fuyuki first on the last flight tonight."  
"Two months, eh? That should be enough time."  
"For what?"  
"To sort out all the kinks." Waver steepled his fingers. "Would you like to be a part of my organization?"  
"Bit too early to decide that right now. Besides, aren't you curious as to what I wished for?" asked Eritrea, changing the subject.  
"Of course! I can't believe I didn't ask that before!" said Waver, slapping his forehead.

So Eritrea relayed the events of the fifth and final Holy Grail War. When she finished, the sun was setting and its last rays shone through the windows.

"I can't believe Rider didn't tell me you were alive!"  
"I asked him not to, how else would I be able to elicit the response you gave?"  
Eritrea smirked, "What did he tell you?"  
"That his master won the war and her wish was for him to stay in this world."  
"Well, at least he got the gender right."

She glanced at her watch. It was time. Taking her coat, she got up and said her goodbyes. Before she walked out the door, Waver stopped her.

"Eritrea."  
"Yes?"  
"Promise me you'll think about it. The job."  
"Of course. Goodbye, my friend."

As Eritrea gazed out her window on the midnight plane back to Fuyuki, she was in a pensive mood.

 _The Association_ _,_ _huh?_

In the reflection of the glass, her lips twitched lightly into a smile.

_I just might._

**Two days later.**  
Eritrea was packing her clothing into a black duffel bag when she heard the nearly silent footfalls of an intruder in her house. She spun around and threw a dagger, a silvery blur that landed mere centimeters away from her target's face. A man with white hair and sleek grey eyes pulled the dagger from the walls as he walked towards her.

"Remind me never to sneak up on you again."  
Eritrea returned to the task at hand, speaking in hostile tones.  
"Why are you here?"  
Archer's voice weighed heavy with sadness, "Don't you know?"

Eritrea stopped, glancing towards the floor as she steeled herself to answer him. Looking Archer in the eye, her aggression changed to sorrow. He saw her pain and understood its existence.

Their search for Diarmuid after the war had proven unsuccessful, every lead turning out to be nothing more than a dead end. After a while, Eritrea had grown tired from having her hopes risen only to see them collapsing about her ears.

"I can't give you what you're looking for."  
Archer opened his mouth but she cut him off.  
"Archer, you know that I can never devote myself to you or to anyone else. Don't break your heart trying to attain mine."  
"Then I'll show you how. And if that fails, I'll love for the both of us."  
She sighed at his naïveté, "We both know something like that never lasts."  
"Why not?"  
"Giving your all for someone who can't do the same isn't love, it's just cheating yourself."

Archer's voice was now edged with frustration.

"Then why is Lancer still here with you? Why did you drive me away but let him stay by your side?"  
"Because Lancer understands what you cannot! It is due to his lack of romantic intentions that I allow his presence here."

These two had just managed to survive one war, but in that moment, they found themselves caught up in another. Not against an omnipotent wish-granter, but against each other's hearts.

"Will you at least tell me one thing? Do you love me?"  
"No."  
Archer sighed, gently taking her hand in both of his.  
"I hope that one day, you'll be ready to tell me the truth. When that day comes I'll be here."

Archer let go of her hand and left the way he came. Eritrea stood in the silence, chastising herself as she wiped away a tear she wasn't aware had streaked down her face.

_Truth? That was the truth._

Little did Eritrea know, Lancer had already returned from his trip to the store and was eavesdropping from another room. Things would not be proceeding as usual that night.

"Dinner is amazing, lass, as usual."  
"I'm glad you like it."  
"Have you packed everything for your trip?"  
"Yes, but I'm exhausted now. It's been a long day." she answered, recalling what had transpired earlier. "I hate to be a bother but would you mind doing the dishes tonight?"  
"No problem, lass."

With that, Eritrea got up and headed for her room, but Lancer stopped her.

"Actually before you go to bed, I wanted to talk to you."  
"Of course."  
"I don't like beating around the shrub-"  
"Bush." she giggled.  
"What?"  
"It's beating around the bush, Lancer, not shrub."  
He exhaled, nervous and a little embarrassed, "Right. Well..."

"I love you." it came out earnest, scared.

"That was very convincing. Make sure I'm the only one who hears it. Any other woman would have started planning a wedding already." chuckled Eritrea. "Goodnight, Lancer."

She headed for her room once more. Lancer stopped feeling nervous.

"Do you think just because I kid around a lot that my intentions are not serious?"

His reply stopped her mid-walk. Lancer minimized the distance between them.

"I get it, I really do. I understand why you don't want this. Because you think you can't commit to one person for the rest of your life. I used to be like that, and I still was after meeting you. But somewhere along the way things started to change."

Lancer cradled her face in one hand.  
Eritrea sighed, clasping his hand with her own as she thought of a way to explain herself.

"I'm not asking for an answer now. Just know that I don't care how long I have to wait to hear you say yes, I will."

It tormented her to break him but she knew it had to be done.

"Then you'll be waiting for eternity. Lancer, don't hurt yourself wishing for something that will never come."

Eritrea closed her eyes, cherishing the warmth of his palm just once more before she broke away—her tapered fingers slipping from the spaces of his hand.

It pained him the way it would pain anyone, to give your heart to someone who didn't want to give just as much. But Lancer was no quitter. As he watched her leave, he spoke to himself.

"I'll still wait for you, lass. Forever and a day if that's what it takes."

 **Two** **months later.**  
Eritrea stood atop a hill overlooking the land beneath her, basking in the sub-Saharan sunset with a serene expression on her face. It was her last day in Africa, three months since the previous war. For reasons unknown, standing in the evening light gave her unusual strength.

She closed her eyes, smiling as she bathed in its warm and fiery glow. Upon opening them, she exhaled and looked at the setting sun. A single thought resounded from within, like a shaft of light piercing through the darkness. She took out her phone and made a call.

"Eritrea, to what do I owe the pleasure, old friend?"  
"It's about the job you offered two months ago. I'm ready."  
She had a feeling the British prodigy was smiling on the other end.  
"Sit tight for now, I'll contact you before long. Take care, my friend, we'll meet again soon."

Brief static erupted and the line was severed. Gazing at the sunset again, the answer dawned upon her like the rays highlighting her features. In the midst of chaos, she had made her choice. This was her path. Though at the same time, it felt like running away from the problems she had here. But perhaps if she ran far enough, she could escape. Eritrea brushed aside the guilt, incertitude was not an option.

Her wristwatch read six fifty-five, it was time to go back to camp. When she turned around, Eritrea thought she saw a white-haired figure just before it disappeared in a flash. She chuckled wryly to herself.

"That bad? I better get out of this heat before I completely lose my mind."

Eritrea turned her face towards the setting sun once more before walking away, unaware of the silvery-grey eyes watching her strides from the shadows.

 **Eritrea's Point of View.**  
The taxi drops me off outside my manor. It's sunset, how coincidental. I pay the driver, smile and take my belongings from the trunk.

The roar of the engine recedes until I'm left with silence. The door opens. A familiar face unlocks the gates with a smile and hugs me close.

I return the embrace, masking its half-hearted intent as best as I can. He believes it.

We argue over who should be taking my luggage and I win, obviously. It's good to see Lancer again, despite the way we left things before my journey to Africa.

"Just you wait, lass. Payback is coming your way."  
"Oh, really?"  
"Yeap. Dinner by yours truly."

Not a good idea, so I rush towards the kitchen to prepare the meal before he can.

Home again. But my heart tells me otherwise.

Instead of cooking dinner for two like he had planned, Lancer ended up assisting Eritrea in the preparations. Then again he didn't blame her. He was after all, a terrible cook. An hour later, the pair sat down at the dining table to eat and talk. The atmosphere was pleasant, filled with good food and conversation.

Eritrea told Lancer about the adventures and experiences she had in Africa. Loud chortles were heard amongst all the jokes and witty banter. When they finished their dinner, they both stood up to collect the dishes.

Eritrea smiled at the sight of Lancer who was still chuckling from her previous joke. Then she slipped into a more serious tone, allowing a moment of quiet to settle before she spoke.

"Lancer."  
"Yes?"  
"I took the job."

He smiled understandingly.

"I didn't set the tone for this conversation because I didn't want you to expect good news only to be disappointed by the truth. I know it sounds strange, but on my last day in Africa I was watching the sunset by myself and then I just realized that this was my path. I've made my choice."

She paused to let the words sink in.

"When will you be leaving again?"  
"I'm waiting for Waver to establish contact, but it won't be long now."  
"If this is your destiny, then you owe it to yourself to see it through."

Eritrea didn't have to say it. He already knew. When she decided on her future, she had made a choice about them as well.

She held his face and leaned up to kiss his forehead. He closed his eyes, relishing the touch like a favour the knights of old received from fair ladies. Eritrea pulled back to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Lancer. I'm sorry that you had to go through all that effort to gain nothing in return."  
He smiled at her fondly, "No. And if I could, I'd do it all over again. Spending even a moment with you was the best time of my life."

Eritrea raised a skeptical brow, "The best?"  
"Okay one of the best." he chuckled. "And I wouldn't trade that for anything else. Even if the outcome wasn't the one I wanted. You taught me that true love is not about possession but appreciation. Archer better treat you like the celestial queen you are or I'll stab him with the new lance I bought and take you for myself."

They had a good laugh over his remark.

"You can still pursue someone else, any woman would be lucky to have you. I'll always love you, just differently. I hope that that is enough."  
"More than you'll ever know. But I've decided to give you my heart forever, it's always belonged with you. Will you keep it safe for me, lass?"  
"Always."

Eritrea smiled, so did he. And the two stood in silence, enjoying each other's company.

The next day, Eritrea visited the Emiya residence and was welcomed with tight hugs and jovial squeals. When the commotion died down, she asked for Archer's whereabouts.  
"He went out for a walk, but he'll be back soon." was Saber's reply.

Now, Eritrea was waiting in his room. She noticed a suitcase tucked away in one corner and a spread of documents on his bedside table. Curious, she took a peek at the papers and discovered an airline ticket.

**Date: December 27th**   
**Location: Africa**

She heard footsteps behind her.  
"What's this?" she interrogated.  
"I was going to explain when I visited you tonight, but I suppose now is as good a time as any."

The air was still as she awaited his justification.

"I followed you to Africa."  
"Why?" snapped Eritrea.  
"I had to. In case..." he trailed.  
"In case what?" she demanded, anger and distrust building in her tone.

"In case you didn't come back."

He looked into her eyes, hoping she would understand his methods. Eritrea was taken aback.

_Of course I would return. I couldn't leave important things unsaid._

"Archer, there's a reason why I'm here. There was something I needed to do."  
"Say goodbye before you left again?" he asked, more a statement than a question.  
"I..." she stopped. It was true, partly. "Were you there the last day I watched the sunset?"  
"Yes."  
"Then you know I accepted Waver's offer."

Archer's face fell. Eritrea took him by the hand.

"I'm not leaving yet. But this is my path and I hope you'll understand that."  
"I do."  
"I can't stay for long, but let's cherish all we have in this moment. I want nothing more, not now."

So Archer held Eritrea close, not wanting a single second to pass. If keeping her in his arms could have stopped the clock, he would never let go.

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

****

**Chapter Fourteen: A Future and a Past**

**Two weeks after Eritrea's return.**  
Eritrea was seated at a table in the Emiya residence alongside her cousin and three friends, enjoying the meal before them. Illyasviel and Rider had been on holiday in Germany since last week, leaving the rest of the group in Fuyuki. Suddenly, they heard a crash outside.

By instinct, everyone readied their weapons and stepped out the doors. A hooded figure stood in the centre of the courtyard, his physique that of a man's. Eritrea was in front of the party, wielding her dual katanas, her intuition like a hundred bells going off all at once.

_His build, the stance he's taking. Could it be?_

"State your name and purpose. If your intention is to kill us, you would die where you stand before your stroke fell."

Even Archer was intimidated, and relieved that he wasn't on the receiving end of Eritrea's hostility.

"My, my, you've only grown more fierce and beautiful since I last saw you." answered the stranger as he pulled off his hood. Eritrea nearly dropped her swords.   
"Diarmuid." she breathed, unable to hide her surprise.

Archer noticed the inconspicuous lowering of her weapons only to have them back at their rigid positions.

"Diarmuid failed to materialize when I gave my wish to the Grail, how do we know you're not an impostor?"   
"I nearly killed you the first time we met. And... Is tú a chuisle mo chroí."

Eritrea lowered her blades, her mind reeling.

_It is you. Where have you been all this time?_

"I came here to see you and explain. May I?" he beckoned to the open doors behind the group. Eritrea nodded to her friends to put away their weaponry as she turned around and headed back into the house. The stranger, taking that for a yes, followed her in.

She laid her swords on the edge of the dining table, not looking at Diarmuid. He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Eritrea and burying his head in the nape of her neck.

"I've missed you terribly, my love. I wasn't sure you'd be alive, but I had to come. I had to see you for myself..."

Eritrea looked uneasy in his embrace.   
_Discomfort?_ thought Archer. _Or guilt?_   
Archer was about to pry her from his grip until Diarmuid pulled back with a puzzled and hurt expression.

"You didn't hold me in return, is something wrong?"   
"There is something you must know, but I will tell you after your explanation."  
"Very well. We should settle down first."

The party took their seats at the dining table and Diarmuid began.

"On the day you made your wish, I saw everything from within the Grail. I saw the others materializing but I was chained and surrounded by a lake of fire. The Grail told me it wasn't going to let you have everything you wished for. I tried breaking the chains that bound me, to no avail.

Then an angel parted the lake and approached me, saying you had fought valiantly and deserved to have your wish fulfilled. He destroyed the chains and we battled our way out of the Grail. Time does not flow at the same pace within the Grail as it does here on Earth. When we finally escaped,I materialized in the same spot where the volcano was before, but three months had passed."

Diarmuid spoke again, this time to Eritrea.

"Now, what was it you wanted to tell me, my love?"  
She looked at her friends.   
"Leave us alone. And do not enter this room until I say so."

Archer and Lancer gave pointed glances, hesitant to leave but with a nudge from Saber, followed them to another room.

"Diarmuid, when I died and woke up in Heaven, I saw your wife and children. I saw Grainne."

Diarmuid tightened his grip on the fabric of his garments.

"She said that she witnessed the battles we fought together, and she had heard the words we exchanged before my demise. She felt you and I were both worthy of each other's love.   
Because she admired my unwillingness to take you while you were still bound to her, she told me that if I wanted to, we could be together.

I explained that that was impossible, being dead and all. That would make for a rather difficult long-distance relationship, wouldn't it?" she chuckled anxiously, taking a few breaths. "Sorry, I just..."

Diarmuid held her hand, smiling, "Still making jokes at inappropriate times?"  
"Afraid so." she sighed. "But anyway, God told me He would send me back to finish the task He had entrusted me with. So here I am."

Tears of joy brimmed in Diarmuid's amber eyes. So earnest and pure, never doubting his own love or the one before him that it crushed Eritrea all the more to say her next words.

"But Diarmuid," she removed his hand from hers. "I must first and foremost apologize. There is no easy way to say this."

Eritrea paused, Diarmuid's gaze was wrought with concern as his eyes urged her to continue.

"I never loved you. I only told you that because I was under the influence of your curse."  
"My love, what are you talking about? We both know that couldn't be further from the truth."  
"I'm afraid it is, and because of that you cannot stay here."  
"That white-haired gentleman earlier, does he have something to do with this? Is he holding you against your will?"

"No, I-" Eritrea struggled with the poison in her words. "Diarmuid please, you must understand that it was an accident. I never loved you and I did not intend to tell you otherwise."  
"Then why did you bring me back?" he cried.  
"Because I wanted to set you free from the enslavement of the Grail before destroying it. When you didn't return I was disappointed, but considering the circumstances I concluded that it was for the best."  
"No... No, you're lying to me."

Diarmuid's calm resolve was slipping. He took her hands in his again.

"We loved each other... We still do. What changed that?"

"Diarmuid..." she sighed, feeling his touch weaken her resolve.

_No, I can't. Better to hurt him this way than the other._

She backed away, "That man is the one I truly love. Please, leave now and make a life of your own elsewhere."

It wasn't true, of course it wasn't. Diarmuid was sure of it. But the conviction in her words was making him doubt his intuition.

"Eritrea... I don't understa-"  
"Please..." she gritted her teeth, struggling to retain her composure.   
"Go now."

Tears streaked his handsome face as he made his way to the door. Then he turned to look at Eritrea.

"I will make things right again, my love. Whatever the costs."

Eritrea's knees buckled and she fell to the ground, covering her face with both hands as she wept. Her friends, having seen Diarmuid leave from a window, rushed in to console Eritrea.

Later that night, Archer and Eritrea returned to the mansion, while Lancer decided to stay at the Emiya residence. Seated on her bedroom floor, Archer observed Eritrea, her silence was worrying. Then without glancing at him she asked.

"Do you remember when I told you about a man I once fell in love with?"   
"Yes. But you never told me his name."   
"That's because I wanted to forget everything about him. He was older and I was just a teenager with a fleeting crush. That's what I tried to believe. But lying to yourself only works for so long." 

A lone candle emitted an unstable glow, flickering in the darkness. Seemingly unsure if it wanted to burn itself out or be swept away by the wind.

"Do you still love him?"   
"I don't know. But when I saw him... I thought he died, Archer. And then seeing him right in front of me again. I wanted... I wanted to run into his arms and let him hold me."  
"So why didn't you?"  
"Because I care for you as well. And I was appalled at how I could be so selfish. I warned you, didn't I? I told you nothing good could come from loving such an unreliable heart."   
"It's not easy to let go of the first person you love." he said, holding her close to him.

A single tear fell onto the grounds outside, the moonlight illuminating a pair of amber-colored eyes. The figure hanging onto the ledge of the balcony made a nimble leap, leaving the mansion and dashing off into the night.

 **The next day.**  
Eritrea was woken up by her cellphone. No Disney birdsong this time.

"Hello, Eritrea?"  
"Hello, Waver. Yes, it's me."  
"I've just called to inform you that the preparations have been made and you will be leaving tonight. Is that alright?"  
"Perfect. Thank you, my friend. I'll see you soon."  
"Goodbye."

With that confirmation, Eritrea rose from her bed and went downstairs.

"Did you sleep well?" asked Archer.  
"Surprisingly so. But I know that things are far from settled."

A knock was heard, Eritrea went to see who it was. When she opened the door, she found her friends gathered outside—a sight for sore eyes.

"Rider and Illya returned after you left, I've already informed them on what happened. We came here so we could discuss how to proceed with matters." explained Saber.  
"Of course, come in."

After a good breakfast, the company chatted about Rider and Illya's trip before moving on to their recent problem. Just then, they were interrupted by another knock.

"Who could that be?" asked Rider with his head cocked to one side.  
"I have a hunch." Eritrea muttered as she approached the doors.

The party heard voices from where they sat.

"There's something I wish to speak with you about. May I?"   
"Come in."

Diarmuid never thought the day would come when he'd have to ask for permission to enter Eritrea's home. She walked into the dining area with Diarmuid following suit.

After uncomfortably glancing at the many faces around him, Diarmuid cleared his throat.

"It needs to be discussed in private, Eritrea."  
"Very well. But before that, I have important news."

Eritrea got up from her seat.  
"On my last day in Africa, I accepted a job offer from Waver. This morning I received a phone call from him, confirming that I will leave tonight."

Almost everyone at the table was happy. Almost.

"Congratulations, neesan!" exclaimed Illyasviel.  
"Yes, but that still leaves a few loose ends to tie up." replied Eritrea, looking at the raven-haired man.  
"Diarmuid, upstairs, now."

After the door closed behind them, Eritrea spoke first.

"Where are you staying at the moment?"  
"Well, it was difficult to find suitable accommodation at first, because the ones who offered were mostly young women..."  
"The mark you bear still holds its charm?"  
"No-"

Eritrea laughed, "Of course. You're just ridiculously good looking."  
Diarmuid gave an embarrassed chuckle, then continued.  
"Eventually, an elderly couple took me in but because I didn't want to burden them I left after a while. Now, I'm residing in a candy store in Karakura Town."  
"A candy store? In Karakura?"  
"Yes, the owner was more than happy to oblige. In return, I insisted that I help him with the shop."  
"I see."

Eritrea pondered on what to do next.

"Return tomorrow and pack your things, Diarmuid. Tell Willy-Wonka that you're staying here from now on."  
"But-"  
"I'm leaving for a new job, Diarmuid. That means I won't be around for a while so I'm entrusting you and the others with the care-taking of my home. You'll be living with the rest in Shirou's house but I expect my residence to remain spotless."  
"Very well."

Diarmuid wanted to say more, but he hesitated.

"You had something on your mind, didn't you? Tell me now, tomorrow's too late."  
"The gentleman downstairs, Archer, was it? I heard what you told him last night..."

Since the beginning of their conversation, Eritrea had not looked at Diarmuid once. Instead her arms were crossed and she was leaning on her left leg. Now, her hands had fallen to their sides as she breathed out a sigh.

"No use in pretending otherwise then."

The pair faced each other, their silhouette illuminated by the sunlight that shone through a window.

Eritrea gazed up at Diarmuid, looking into his eyes. At the right angle, they looked like rich, abysmal pools of gold. As if two drops of the sun had fallen into his eyes. She raised her hand to hold his face.

"When I look into those golden eyes of yours... I feel as if I could learn to live on the sun."  
He smiled and held her hand in his, Eritrea slid both arms around his neck and embraced him.  
"I've missed you, Diarmuid. I really have."  
"I've missed you terribly as well."  
"I do care. You have always been a dear companion to me. But I need time to understand what it is I actually want."  
Diarmuid pulled her in even closer, closing his eyes as he replied.  
"Of course."

That evening, Eritrea had packed her belongings and followed her friends to Shirou's house. Since it was her last day with them, he insisted on cooking up a feast. They exchanged jokes and memories from the wars, reacquainting with one another and making new friends.

The hours flew by like minutes, and before they knew it, it was time. Eritrea gathered her things and exited the dining area after bidding her friends farewell. Archer, Diarmuid and Cú Chulainn followed behind.

"Let's give them a moment alone." whispered Saber, guiding Illya away.

They stood at the entrance in silence for a while.

"Well, you've ruined men for me now." Eritrea jested. "I loved all of you, just not the way people usually do. But know that you will always be dear to me. For now, I am choosing myself."

She gave them a small smile.

"Goodbye."

Eritrea slid through the wooden Japanese doors with her suitcase and disappeared into the winter night. She walked to the centre of the courtyard, then stopped in her tracks and turned around to look at the mansion one last time.

Turning back to gaze at the sky, she found a full moon that night—bright and clear. Extending her arm, a delicate snowflake fell into her palm. Eritrea brought it close to admire its design, then closed her hand to seal its beauty within her soul to remember for eternity.

The entire party was nowhere to be seen, but their presence was felt. Eritrea knew they were all watching from the rooftops of the Emiya residence. She smiled at the shadows, Illya not so well-hidden, then turned around and headed towards her destination.

 

 


	35. Chapter 35

****

**Chapter Fifteen: An Unexpected Return**

**Ten years later.**  
A loud slam of flesh against metal echoed into the night as his sweaty palms connected with the rusted banister. Hastened footsteps ascended the fire escape. Two people were in the midst of a hunt, and he had become the prey.

He was afraid. But why should he be? Had he not received training of his own to prepare him for such situations? He could hear footsteps against the ground behind him. For some reason, the adversary pursuing him was unsettling.

The man slipped, and in doing so missed the sharp edge of a dagger that should have severed a tendon but instead left a deep gash on his shoulder. His panic heightened and he wondered how long his luck would hold, if he had any to begin with.

He was fast approaching the edge of the building as another lay before him. Four feet. A perilous fall should he miscalculate his footing but it was either jump or be captured.

He made it to the other side and turned around just briefly enough to catch sight of a nimble figure leaping from one rooftop to the next. The pursuer's stride was long, elegant and sure-footed.

What he didn't see was the silver glint that spun in the darkness before landing on its mark. A folly on his part for turning around, indeed. But the dagger would have struck him where the assailant intended anyway. He fell to the ground, gasping in astonishment and pain.

"Sorry about that, I'd have used my tranquilizer on you to make it less painful but I finished them on the guards. Now then..."

The figure stepped forward, dual katanas in her hands.

"Hand over the list and I won't fight you."

The wounded man pulled out the knife and flung it to the ground.

_Swords? In this era? Tsk._

He took out his handgun and spared a moment to check the rounds. His opponent was gracious enough to give him some time. She should be afraid. A bullet traveled faster than swords, after all. But her expression remained calm. Slightly bored if anything, but also a tad curious to see what he would attempt.

"Don't do anything stupid. I will ask you once again, the list please."

The man answered with a hail of bullets from his weapon. Quick as a flash, she ducked behind some metal cooling units for cover. Two seconds. Then she reappeared and ran in a zig-zag line towards him, using the blades to ricochet the bullets away from her before finding cover again.

One of the bullets grazed her abdomen, cutting a clean line across an old injury. Pressing her wound, she ignored the crimson blotch that stained her clothing. Her attacker spoke for once, cockiness in his tone.

"I see one of my bullets has hit the mark."   
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm still good."

In the reflection of her katanas, she calculated the distance between them and confirmed her course of action. She came out of hiding, double blades crossed in front for cover like before.

She jumped from the ground to another metal cooling unit and somersaulted in mid-air. The bullets came but did not hit their target as planned. His pupils dilated in alarm as the swords drew nearer.

This was it. She would either slit his throat, cut off his head or stab him in the heart. Either way, he was finished. But instead, his gun flew out of grasp and two blades were crossed in front of his neck, daring him to inch towards the sharpened edges.

"I believe that was the last bullet." said the female.  
"A-Absurd! I was sure I aimed for your vitals!"

The woman gave no reply. She didn't become the head of the Association by playing the damsel in distress. Years of grueling training and experience had honed her skills, enabling her to ensnare her prey without the usage of modern weaponry in its absence. Be it by unavailability or her own decision not to utilize them.

A helicopter appeared above them, shining its glaring spotlight at the rooftop. Soldiers climbed down from a ladder attached to the aircraft, hastening towards the pair and surrounding them with pointed guns. The woman retracted her katana swords, fished around the man's jacket until she got what she wanted, then spoke to one of the soldiers.

"He's all yours, mate."  
"Yes, Commander."

She looked down at the thumb drive in her palm before pocketing the item. A medic who followed the company temporarily patched up her wound. Then she headed towards the helicopter, its co-pilot popped his head out the hatch.

"Evening, Commander. You coming back to base with us?"  
"Evening, Jenkins. No, I'll be returning myself. Just take the bloke back and find him a nice cell."   
"Roger that, Commander. Should I let Lord El-Melloi know you'll be late?"

There was a tiny glint in her eyes as her pleasant smile diminished to an inconspicuous grin.

"No need, Jenkins. Thank you very much."  
"Of course, Commander. We'll meet you later."

The woman sheathed her blades and waited until they left. Standing tall on the rooftop, she fixed her eyes on the skyline. The strong winds swept her hair to the side. A moment to herself in the shadows, gazing upon the city lights. She smiled in contentment but then found her thoughts drifting to the people she left behind in Japan.

"You've always liked being alone, haven't you?"  
"How long were you there?"  
"I arrived when they did."

The stranger had made his way forward and now stood beside the lady, admiring the view before them.

"Do you miss them?"

She didn't answer.

"You can go back, you know?"  
"Waver." the woman turned to face him, finally addressing him by name.  
"You know I can't do that. Things are different now. I have soldiers to command, an organization to lead, people to save. There's no going back. Not for me."  
"What if I told you that you could still do the same even if you returned?"  
"I appreciate your efforts but there are some things that should be left behind."

Lord El-Melloi the Second raised his hand to the Commander's shoulder and smiled.

"It's time, Eritrea. No more running."

There was a howl in the wind at that moment. Eritrea closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then she shifted her attention away from the burning lights of the metropolis and smiled in return.

"Very well."

 **Fuyuki** **Town Centre, Japan.**  
Saturday night at one of Fuyuki City's most popular bars was loud, lively, and filled with attractive women. Exactly the way Lancer had anticipated when he dragged Archer and Diarmuid through the over-polished wooden doors.

The three had become good friends in the span of the ten years that Eritrea was away. Lancer had organized this night out on the town in attempt to lift the spirits of his friends.

The trio sat together at the bar with large pints of the finest Irish beer in their hands. As the night wore on, they had been harangued by countless women. All of which Lancer had flirted with but the others continuously turned down.

Diarmuid however, faced the worst. Must have been difficult, being so attractive. When they had a short reprieve, Lancer gestured towards a woman on the other end of the bar.

"She looks nice, go talk to her." he said to Diarmuid, who seemed even more dismal than when he had left the house earlier that night.   
Diarmuid spared her a glance then continued looking at his drink.  
"I'm not interested."  
"Alright, don't say I didn't help you. What about you Archer? Up for a little game of seduction?"

But he didn't answer, merely resting his chin on his hand and staring into oblivion. Lancer sighed, looking at both his friends with a sad smile. He understood.

Eritrea's absence had had a profound effect on everyone, himself included. But it hit his two friends the hardest. Lancer decided to stop pushing women into their faces and opted for earnest conversation instead.

"Alright, you two. What's on your mind?"  
"I miss her. It's been ten years." said Diarmuid.  
"Well, you know what it's like. She's leading the Association now. It's difficult to keep in touch with all the work she has."

Waver had been giving updates to Eritrea's friends on a consistent basis. Since she took on the job, Eritrea had not been in contact with the people she left behind. Everyone except Diarmuid and Archer understood why.

They knew that she needed space to find herself, to find her purpose in life. Those things took time. If Eritrea was to discover the direction of her future, she would require a considerable distance from the people of her past.

"But it is not impossible." Diarmuid sighed. "I wish she would try sometimes."

Lancer nodded once, he felt the same way. When he observed Archer, he knew it was no different. Archer hadn't said a word in all that time but he did miss her.

Everyday.

From the day she walked out the door to the days that came after that.

Lancer gave his two friends a pat on the back, "Okay, okay, let's go home then."

They finished their beer and quickly made it out of the bar before more women threw themselves at them. As they walked home, Lancer started telling a few jokes. To his delight, Diarmuid and Archer laughed, but only because they were so ridiculous.

When the chuckling died down, Archer stopped walking and turned to look at the sky. There was a full moon that night, its ethereal luminance undimmed by the evening shadows. His friends noticed the gesture and did the same.

Lancer sighed wistfully.  
"Reminds you of her, doesn't it?"

His two companions nodded in unison. Then waking from their reverie, they headed back to Shirou's mansion.

A male voice, followed by laughter was overheard by the mansion's residents. Lancer had just finished cracking another joke. The trio slid the Japanese doors aside and entered, halting the chatter from inside the living room.

A woman, standing in the centre with two katanas at her side and long flowing hair behind her, turned around to face the three gentleman. Her face carried a smile that was equal parts warm and mischievous.

"Hello boys, miss me?"

Absolute shock adorned the faces of the group at her appearance. Lancer was first to respond by rushing forward and hugging Eritrea. He spun her around, both of them collapsing into gales of laughter.

"I've missed you, lass. When did you arrive? Why didn't you call us?"  
Lancer had placed Eritrea down on her feet and fondly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.   
"Just two hours ago, I wanted to surprise everyone."

She smelled alcohol on his person and turned to look at Archer and Diarmuid, still standing in the same place in an astonished stupor.

"Trying to make Archer Irish, I see."  
Lancer scratched his head, his cheeky expression tinged with guilt.  
"Eh, it was just a boys night out, nothing much."

Archer and Diarmuid were both glued to the floor. How could she be standing there, laughing and talking as if nothing had happened? How could she walk in as if she just returned from a day trip when she hadn't even answered a phone call for ten years?

Then they felt a slap on the back of their heads.

"Oi, stop standing there like idiots and say something!"   
"Play nice, Lancer. There'll be plenty of time for hitting later." Eritrea teased, coming in front of Archer and Diarmuid.  
"I've missed you both." she said, before wrapping the two in a hug.

They snapped out of it and took her into their embrace. Familiarity of all the good times they shared coming back instantly at her touch. From behind another door, Saber (new mom of the group) appeared.

"Alright everyone, that's enough excitement for one night. We can all share our stories tomorrow, now go to bed."

Arturia was right, it was late and they needed a rest. Shirou had prepared a futon in a room between Rider's and Saber's for Eritrea. Exhausted from her trip, she fell asleep the minute her head touched the pillow. Everyone rested easy that night.

Everyone except two.

Archer paced his room while Diarmuid tossed and turned in his bedding. Each wondering what it was that he felt in his heart.

Wondering what their first words should be to their guest the next day.

 

 


	36. Chapter 36

****

**Chapter Sixteen: Conflicted**

Worn out from all the tussling and internal conflict, Diarmuid had only managed to get a few hours of shuteye.

He arose to a delectable smell wafting through his door. But that wasn't what caught his attention.

He heard a voice, singing a lovely and familiar tune. Deciding he could no longer go back to sleep, he got up and walked into the kitchen.

Eritrea was at the stove with a frying pan in her right hand. Before he could say anything, she greeted him cheerily.

"Good morning, Diarmuid."  
"Good morning, Eritrea." replied Diarmuid, allowing the syllables of her name to linger just a little. She didn't notice.  
"I'm making breakfast for everybody."   
Eritrea flopped a freshly-cooked pancake onto a stack of finished ones. Pancakes. The same thing he cooked on the day he first heard her sing.

"May I help?"  
"It's alright. I got this."

Suddenly, Diarmuid felt his throat run dry, as if he wasn't sure of what to say next. He began stuttering and fumbling, but his attempts at stringing together a proper sentence were masked by a little girl who barged in and hugged Eritrea from behind.

"Ohayo, neesan!" exclaimed Illya.  
"Ohayo, Illya!" replied Eritrea, tenderly ruffling the child's hair.

As if on cue, everybody else started entering the room and greeting one another. Disappointed, Diarmuid moved away and sat with the others.

A minute later, Eritrea hoisted a gargantuan stack of pancakes onto the table. Shirou busied himself by distributing plates and cutlery whilst Saber laid out a bowl of berries, peanut butter and maple syrup.

Archer volunteered to do the dishes when they finished. Eritrea was already washing a few when he entered the kitchen with a pile of dirty plates and utensils.

He watched her while she worked. She looked calm, perhaps even happy. But he knew that when she left ten years ago, she had left with unfinished business.

"How have you been?"   
"I'm alright." she said, turning to smile at him before returning to her task.  
"Are you?"   
"Yes."  
"Why didn't you answer my phone calls?"  
"I didn't answer anyone, Archer. Things were too hectic at the time. I'm sorry."

They finished the dishes and dried their hands on a towel. Eritrea was making her way out the kitchen when Archer reached out for her wrist, turning her to face him as he held both her hands in his.

"You and I," his left thumb stroked her knuckle once. "we're alright, aren't we?"

His sudden affection surprised her, but she nodded.

"Yes."

Eritrea gave him a genuine smile which he returned. Then their hands fell back to where they were and they exited the kitchen.

"Something the matter?" Eritrea asked when she found the ladies huddled in a corner, speaking with hushed voices.  
"We're going out tonight! Dress fancy!" exclaimed Saber, eyes sparkling with unusual playfulness.

Eritrea was about to interrogate her further when her handphone rang. She fished it out of her pocket and checked the caller identification.

' **Waver'**

Her light-hearted expression became stern and business-like.

"Excuse me, I have to take this call."

She answered the phone while stepping outside, sliding the wooden Japanese doors behind her to a close.

"Hello, Eritrea. Is everything alright?"  
"Yes Waver, thank you for asking. I'd have called sooner for a briefing but I didn't want to intrude."  
"Sorry about that. We were busy putting together the final touches for the operations base, since you'll be heading the Association from Japan now."  
"But I'm not even sure I want to stay!"  
"Don't worry, all we did was transfer your things and the information required for your missions. If you really find that Japan isn't to your liking, which I sincerely hope will not be the case... Then you can come back to the headquarters in New York."

Waver heard a sigh from the other end of the line.

"Are you expecting me to find something here, Waver?"  
"I hope so, I really do."   
"Very well. I'll lead the division here, for now."  
"Excellent. I've already sent you the location of the operational base."  
"Thank you, Waver."  
"You're welcome. Oh and Eritrea?"  
"Yes?"  
"Good luck."

Eritrea severed the connection and entered the dining area, beaming.

"I just spoke to Waver. Looks like I'll be staying a little longer than expected."  
Excited whoops were heard and Lancer asked.  
"For how long?"  
"Well, I'm leading the Association here for the time being so we'll see how it goes. Nothing's really set in stone yet." replied Eritrea, deciding not to tell them that she wasn't sure she wanted to stay at all.

Diarmuid however, was hiding the pain he felt inside. It wasn't honourable to eavesdrop but he couldn't help it, he didn't want her to disappear without a trace for ten years again. Diarmuid didn't catch the entirety of their conversation but he did hear something she said.

_"But I'm not even sure I want to stay!"_

_Is it my fault? Is that why you haven't answered any of us this whole time?_

Thought Diarmuid, as he watched Eritrea laughing and chatting with the others.

That night, Rider sported the T-shirt and trousers he bought with Waver during the Holy Grail War. Archer wore a black dress shirt; Lancer, a blue one; and Diarmuid, a dark, forest green.

Ilya had a frilly cream frock on; Arturia, a white dress with a blue ribbon tied around the waist; and Eritrea, a black floor-length dress made from velvet.

Upon seeing the women, the gentlemen let out audible gasps. It wasn't everyday they got to witness their female friends so dressed up.

Having arrived, they parked their vehicles and entered the high-end restaurant Illya had made reservations for earlier that day. It was paradise for a glutton like Saber whose stomach knew no bounds and the German homunculus had more than enough money to keep the kitchen staff going.

After leaving the restaurant, they decided to walk about the city and explore. Lancer came up beside Eritrea and asked in a most gentlemanly fashion.

"May I have the honor?" a playful grin on his lips.  
Eritrea replied by taking his arm in hers, "Do you remember when you tricked me into resting your head on my lap?"   
"Hey! I finished those chores when I came back, didn't I?" he answered smugly.

Eritrea pinched him at the waist and he responded by tickling her and spinning her around, Archer and Diarmuid watched them from behind.

"So, why didn't you answer their phone calls?"  
The mirth faded from her expression.  
"You know why, Lancer."

If Eritrea was sad, it didn't last long. Her eyes widened in awe at all the large, incandescent signboards. It wasn't the first time she had been to a brightly-lit city but it never ceased to amaze her.

"Eritrea, turn around!"

When she did, a clicking sound was heard from the camera Saber had brought along. Caught up in all the sights and smells of the city, Eritrea held out her arms and twirled in circles until Lancer caught her. They all had a wonderful time.

On their way back, Eritrea had already dozed off. Upon reaching the house, Saber took her in to change her clothes and at eleven fifty, all the lights went out.

In the middle of the night, Diarmuid decided to check in on Eritrea. So he quietly entered her room and sat by her side just caressing her hair and watching her sleep, and no he did not pick this up from a vampire movie, who do you take him for?

_"So why didn't you answer their phone calls?"_

_"You know why, Lancer."_

Diarmuid replayed their conversation in his mind, unaware that Eritrea was shifting in the futon and had woken up.

"Diarmuid...?"   
"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" he asked in a gentle voice, stroking her face.  
"No, no, it's fine. I've always been a light sleeper."

He smiled, remembering the nights he had watched over her during the war.   
"You should rest, it's been a long day."  
"It's alright. I have a feeling you've got something on your mind. Of course, could I lean against the wall first?"

She sat upright now and would have moved herself, but Diarmuid took the liberty of carrying her instead.

"Now then, what was it you wanted to say?"

It was a strange feeling, akin to paralysis. Diarmuid had wanted a moment alone with her this whole time but now that he had it, he couldn't find the right words to say.

His eyes were downcast and he fumbled for a while. Looking up at Eritrea, he expected to see her irritated but found her smiling patiently as she waited for him to speak.

"Why didn't you answer me when I called you?"

Now it was her turn to look at the ground. In the silence, a memory of the same time frame came to mind but in two different forms.

Eritrea was looking out her office window in the Association's headquarters, the hands of the wall clock struck eleven thirty. She was gazing at the full moon, lost in the silence.

A buzzing sound vibrated from her table, shattering her daze. She leaned over to identify the caller.

' **Diarmuid** **'**

Eritrea furrowed her brows as she wondered to herself.

_Am I really so afraid?_

"The person you have called is unavailable. Please leave a messag-"

Diarmuid frowned deeply and severed the line, putting his phone away. Someone yelled from the dining area.

"Oi Diarmuid, dinner's ready, come eat!"  
"No, thank you. I'm going out for some air, I'll be back soon."

He put on his boots and stepped out into the cold winter night. In the centre of the courtyard, he stood to face the full moon.

_I wonder if you're out there, looking at the same moon right now._

A voice interrupted his thoughts.  
"You tried to call her again, didn't you?"

His solemn eyes were answer enough.

"I wanted to tell her that the full moon was out tonight. She would have loved to see it."  
Lancer walked up to him and patted his friend on the back.   
"I'm sure she knows, my friend. Wherever she is."

"I didn't answer because... Because I was afraid."  
Diarmuid came back to the present moment.  
"Afraid of what?"  
"I didn't answer any of you so that I could forget. It was selfish but I couldn't stay there, torn between the two of you. So when you both called, I didn't pick up because if I heard your voice or his, I would have come running back."

Diarmuid couldn't believe his ears. All that time she had been avoiding them and worrying about something that never even crossed his mind. He would have relieved her of that burden had she spoken up sooner. Then they wouldn't have had to pass ten long years in silence.

"You don't have to choose. I'm content just being here for you the way Lancer is. I love you and I want to cherish you. But if you choose Archer, it's alright."  
"It's not fair for you to do this and for me to have it so easy."   
"A friendship with you will never be any less precious to me than a relationship. You're not obligated to love someone you don't. I didn't care for you while expecting something in return, Eritrea."  
"Is that chivalry talking?" she quipped.  
"Feminism, actually. Arturia has been teaching me."

"Are you certain?" she asked, once her laughter had petered out.  
"Yes." he answered, smiling down at her.

With that, she fell asleep in his embrace. Diarmuid held Eritrea the way he once had during the war, not wanting her to slip away again.

The pair were completely oblivious to the crestfallen silver eyes watching them from a gap in the doors. Wishing he was in Diarmuid's place but realizing there was nothing he could do, Archer slipped away and retired to his own room.

When Diarmuid rose the next morning, he found in his arms, a piece of paper instead of the woman he adored.

**_Diarmuid_ ** **_,_ **   
**_I've gone to the operations base to resume my work. I'm sorry to have left without saying goodbye, but you looked so peaceful in your sleep that I couldn't bring myself to wake you._ **

**_You looked so much like the way you did back then._ **

**_In any case, do await my return with the others, I won't be too long._ **

**_With affection,_ **   
**_Eritrea._ **

At the third sentence of the note, Diarmuid noticed an inky blotch near the first letter from leaving the pen against the paper for too long. A telltale sign that Eritrea had been hesitant to write that sentence at the time for fear it would seem too sentimental.

In his mind, he recalled the memory of the early morning after they had inadvertently performed the mana restoration ritual, the silent musings she thought had gone unheard by her servant and the tenderness in her hand when she brushed aside his hair.

Diarmuid looked at the letter once more.

_You're always the first one to disappear, aren't you? At least I know you'll be coming back this time._

Arriving at the headquarters, Eritrea was greeted by a fair-skinned woman with dark eyes. She had a well-toned figure and her black hair was pulled back into box braids.

"Good morning, Commander. I'm Captain Izumi Curtis and I'll be assisting you in running the division." greeted the woman, raising one hand in salute.  
"At ease, Captain. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."   
"Likewise. Lord El-Melloi is waiting for us. This way, please."

Eritrea followed the Captain through corridors and elevators until they reached a specific room. Inside, she found her friend speaking to a young man while they monitored a large screen.

"Ah, Commander, glad to see you again." said Lord El-Melloi as he spun around.  
She embraced the man, "My friend."

The fellow beside Waver grinned at Eritrea, earning an astonished gasp from her.

"Ryuunosuke? What are you doing here?"  
"I'm supervising the tech division for the Association here in Japan."   
"So that's why you weren't around when I came to visit again. Looks like Waver got to us all, eh?" beamed Eritrea, slapping the British founder on his shoulder.   
"Well, were the technicians able to decipher the list I found?"  
"Yes, and that's why you're here today. One of our targets needs rescuing, Okinawa City. The chopper leaves in fifteen minutes, I'll inform your friends that you'll be returning late."  
"No time to lose then." said Eritrea, packing equipment into a duffel bag. "And Waver?"  
"Yes, Commander?"  
"Thank you."  
"Anytime, my friend."

When Eritrea returned, she walked into the dining area where the others were waiting with a big smile.

"Tadaima."

Behind his stoic expression, Archer felt a weight lifted off his chest. Of course they had been informed by Diarmuid and Waver earlier that day on Eritrea's whereabouts, but everyone succumbs to paranoia from time to time. Even former Heroic Spirits.

Dinner after that was like, well, every other time the company gathered. Filled with good stories and jokes. Eritrea regaled her friends with the adventures and missions she had in her time away.

While Shirou and Rider busied themselves with the dishes later on, the others gathered around to watch a movie. Eritrea on the other hand, stole away to sit outside.

It was beautiful. In all her travels, she had never been so frequently graced with a full moon in such close proximity. Archer approached her from behind.

"How's your wound?"  
"It's fine, thank you for your concern."  
He sat down beside Eritrea, admiring the moon with her.  
"Archer, I owe you an apology and an explanation."

His gaze was blameless, but he allowed her to go on.

"I never answered your phone calls because I was afraid to fall back in love. I treated Diarmuid the same way for the same reasons."  
"I went back to the mansion, you know? After the call rang out. I cleaned everything and stayed there for the whole day before going back to Shirou's. It was the closest thing I could get to you."  
"Coming back here, it doesn't change anything. You know I won't choose."  
"I didn't love you so you could choose me. Obviously it's preferable but... I can tell Diarmuid is a good man. At least it's not the dog."

Archer had never really been one to make jokes. But laughing together like this made it worth it.

"Even if you decide to be with him. It's okay, really." he smiled reassuringly.  
"Thank you, Archer." she replied, looking into his eyes.

If Diarmuid's irises were like the sun, then Archer's resembled the moon. The ethereal light reflected in his eyes, bringing out their captivating silver colour. Eritrea's inner voice reverberated in her mind.

_Argentum_ _. Atomic number forty-seven._

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

****

**The Forked Road**

This is an integral portion you must first understand before proceeding with the story. The end of the previous chapter marks the arrival at the crossroads. From here onwards, there will be two different plots. If you get lost or confused, return to **Chapter 16: Conflicted** as that is the origin point.

The separate plots will be called **Sonnets** , I have devoted countless hours to both routes, writing them to the best of my abilities. My wish is that you'll have fun reading them and deciding at the very end which route you liked most.

With buckets of love,  
Eritrea Yunani.


	38. Chapter 38

****

**Sonnet Eighteen: Chapter One**

Two ladies sat on a bench overlooking a stream and clusters of cherry blossom trees. The dusty pink buds were in full bloom and the waters glistered like a polished mirror under the morning light.

Spring had arrived in the Land of the Rising Sun. But despite the splendor of their surroundings, one of the women had her brows knitted in frustration.

"I don't know what to do, Arturia. About those two."   
Saber turned to look at her friend, her blonde hair swishing with the movement.  
"Character-wise, none of them are lacking. If anything, they're on par with one another. How am I supposed to make a decision on two equally-matched people?"

They watched as the cherry blossoms fell into the stream, floating about at a languid pace. Saber, having gathered her thoughts, finally voiced her opinion.

"When you look at it from that perspective, the choice is undoubtedly impossible to make."  
"What do you suggest, my friend?"  
A smile graced Arturia's countenance, as sweet and fresh as the dew covered flowers, "Don't choose the better man. Choose the one who will make you a better woman."

Realization flooded Eritrea's eyes like water cutting through a fissure.

She had her answer.

 **The next night.**  
"Archer, courtyard please. I need to speak with you."

He followed Eritrea outside, leaving their friends to complete the preparation of dinner.

After sliding the wooden Japanese doors to a close, he saw that Eritrea had her back to him as she gazed up at the moon. Why was it that she began conversations with people like this most of the time?

_I see. A part of you is always hidden away. A side that no one has succeeded in revealing thus far._

He came back to reality and asked in a gentle tone, "Eritrea?"  
She turned around, walking towards him, "Archer. There's something I need to say."  
"Of course. What is it?"

A gust of wind blew past them, lifting Eritrea's hair to the side and suspending it in mid-air like some aerial puppeteer pulling invisible strings. Leaves and dust scattered around the pair. Then the howling died down and she spoke.

"I chose Diarmuid."  
There was momentary silence before Archer lifted his hand to her cheek.  
"I understand."  
Clasping his hand, Eritrea smiled.  
"Thank you."

"Hey, you two! Dinner's ready, get inside or we'll take your portion!" hollered Rider, his humongous head popping out from the wooden doors.  
Archer and Eritrea chuckled, then went inside to join their friends.

Later that evening, Eritrea approached Diarmuid.   
"Let's go for a walk, just us two."  
He opened the door and offered his hand, ever the gentleman, "Ready when you are."

Not long after, the two were sauntering by the pier under the full moon. This place was one that Diarmuid and his former master were fond of during the war. When she died, Diarmuid had frequented this area, often watching the sunset or the moon as he listened to the tides and thought of Eritrea.

"Takes you back, doesn't it?" exclaimed the young lady.  
"It certainly does."

They stood side by side, appreciating the scenery in silence.

"I am like a drop of water in the ocean which looking for another drop, loses itself in the wide sea." mused Eritrea all of a sudden as she stared at the moonlit waters.  
"Shakespeare, The Comedy of Errors." replied Diarmuid.

Eritrea smiled at the harmony of their banter.

"I've made my choice."   
"What about?"  
"I have survived two wars in my lifetime, but I've never dared to venture through the one that resided in my heart. I realized it was because I didn't have any reason that was worth the effort. But now I've found one. Because I found you. I'm willing to take a step forward, if you'll have me."

Tears streaked Diarmuid's face, shimmering in the moonlight.

"There are no sonnets, no ballads of great renown that could fully articulate the joy I feel now. You are my one, and I will have not another."

Diarmuid reached out, taking Eritrea's hands in his.

"From this day,"

They took a step forward towards each other's hearts, for the very first time.

"To my last day,"

Diarmuid stroked her face, their foreheads pressed against one another as he uttered the last words.

"To the days that come after."

 **Three months later.**  
Eritrea Yunani's eyes were trained on the stately figure in the glass. Her chest heaved slightly as she took in deep breaths.

Under normal circumstances, inhaling and exhaling were not very noticeable. But mirrors are capable of drawing attention to even the smallest details. When the door burst open, she flung an ornate dagger at the intruder only to have it caught by the hilt.

"Oh! Arturia. I'm so sorry it's just, I'm a little jumpy."   
The blonde chuckled, putting the dagger on a table, "Never mind that,"  
Saber offered her arm, "Shall we?"  
Eritrea drew deep from a well of courage.  
"Yes. Let's."

She picked up the dagger to look at one last time before returning it to Saber for safekeeping and walking out of the room. Her shoulders were pushed back and her head held high like a queen.

Meanwhile, Diarmuid was having struggles of his own. He stared at the mirror, a frown on his face.

"Hmm... Something doesn't look quite right."   
Behind him, Shirou shifted uncomfortably in his seat.   
"Don't be silly. It's just your imagination playing tricks on you."

At this, Archer glanced at the ginger-head. Shirou should be praised, he did an admirable job of hiding the fear in his voice. But Archer was a trained warrior, and he knew fear when it was there. Approaching him, he spoke slowly, danger lurking at the bases of his velvety voice.

"Shirou... What have you got there?"  
"N-Nothing that would interest you!" he stammered, clutching the fabric behind him.

Archer lunged behind Shirou, grabbing the silken tie from his hands. Holding it up to the sunlight, he discovered an unmistakable coffee stain on the smooth threads.

"YOU CARROT-TOP IDIOT! THIS WAS THE TIE THAT DIARMUID WAS SUPPOSE TO WEAR. WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW?!"

It was more an outburst of anger than an actual question. Thankfully at that moment, Lancer came in holding an identical tie, calming the storm before Archer could wring said carrot-top's neck.

"I had a feeling this might happen. Eritrea always keeps a backup for anything important."

Lancer hastily switched out Diarmuid's tie while Shirou stayed in the corner, afraid to do anything at the moment. When he finished, he gripped Diarmuid's shoulder, looking him in the eye.

"It's been a tough race, but I guess the best man did win. You know how fond I am of Eritrea, so you better take good care of her or I'll stab you with that spear of mine."   
Diarmuid clapped Lancer on his shoulder, laughing.  
"The only reason you'd be using that is in a friendly dual with me."   
Archer directed a smirk at Shirou, cocking his eyebrow as he went.  
"It's time to go, think you can handle the rest without screwing up?"  
Shirou, now determined to perform the remainder of his duties without causing a national disaster stood up.  
"Let's go kick some ass!"

Diarmuid stood facing a crowd in a large room with Lancer, Archer and Shirou at one side and Illyasviel on the other. Behind wooden doors on the other end, Eritrea waited with Saber.

"I never thought I'd say this. But I wasn't this nervous during my battle with Caster."   
"I'll be right there with you. You have nothing to fear, my friend."   
Harmonious music resonated beyond the doors.  
"It's time." Eritrea straightened her back. Then she took Saber's arm and stepped out into the light.

Diarmuid was a Heroic Spirit before the last Holy Grail War. He had traveled through a multitude of time periods and places, witnessed and experienced so much. But the next thing he saw single-handedly transcended everything he had known in his lifetime as a former Spirit.

In the midst of the crowd, his golden eyes found her dark brown ones, the first rays of the sun streaming through an ancient woodland.

Eritrea had watched this scene in so many movies, but she didn't think the walk would take this long. Her eyes met Diarmuid's and when they locked she had an epiphany.

In an ethereal glow, she saw herself with Diarmuid in a house, surrounded by the friends they had come to know now as family. Bliss. Contentment. A life and a future.

The next moment, reality flooded her vision like a blur of vivid watercolors on canvas. She had broken into a smile. Joyous, hopeful, glowing.

When Diarmuid caught sight of Eritrea, tears of joy sprang forth. Lancer patted him on the shoulder and nodded. She was absolutely ravishing. Resplendent in white, the gown she wore was of her own choosing.

Eritrea had always adored the majesty and elegance of Greek Goddesses, and today she looked like one. White flowing fabric floated in the breeze behind her, the cut accentuating her curves and muscle. Both her arms donned golden bands, reminiscent of ancient warriors.

Arriving at the end of the aisle, Eritrea stood to face her future husband. Reaching out, she tenderly wiped away the remainder of his tears and caressed his cheek, whispering.

"You know, when I was walking down that aisle I had a vision, of us."   
"What a coincidence, so did I." smiled Diarmuid before nodding at the priest. He bowed slightly in acknowledgment and whispered to the bride in between sniffles.  
"Eritrea, my little girl. I'm so proud of you."   
"I love you too, Pastor Alex." laughed Eritrea before the preacher began the ceremony.  
"We are gathered here today to bear witness and to celebrate the union of Eritrea Yunani and Diarmuid Ua Duibhne in holy matrimony..."

The pair nodded every now and then to the priest as he continued, their eyes focused on one another's most of the time. It wasn't too long before their vows had to be presented.

Diarmuid's chest felt like it would burst from all the wonderful emotions stirring within him. But he willed himself to relax as he began.

"My darling Eritrea, I promise to be your lover, companion and friend. Your ally in conflict, your greatest fan and your toughest adversary. Your consolation in disappointment, your student and your teacher, your accomplice in mischief. What's mine is yours to have and to hold, what's mine is yours to make your own. This is my sacred vow to you, my equal in all things. _All_ things."  
Eritrea smiled, "Perfect."

"My dearest Diarmuid, never in my heart of hearts did I imagine I would keep you there. I vow to have the patience that love demands, to be yours both in plenty and in want, to speak when words are needed and to share in silence when they are not. On this day, I give you my heart. A promise that I will walk with you, hand in hand, wherever our journey leads us. Living, learning, and loving. Together, forever."  
"Perfect." replied Diarmuid, smiling in turn.

Pastor Alex spoke again, "Please present the rings."

At this, Shirou the ring bearer rushed forward, eager to do as the priest had asked. Years later, the bride and groom, along with everyone else present on that day would agree that Shirou completed his final duty with much aplomb.

Eritrea placed the ring on Diarmuid's hand, and he did the same for her. She may or may not have made a Lord of the Rings reference here.

"Do you, Eritrea Yunani, take this man to be your husband, to support and respect in his victories as well as his failures, to care for in sickness and in health, to nurture and to grow with throughout the seasons of your life together?" resumed Pastor Alex.

"I do."  
Diarmuid was asked the same question, and squeezing Eritrea's hands he answered.  
"I do."

After the preacher took out a handkerchief to wipe away some tears, he concluded.

"By the power vested in me, in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Diarmuid grabbed his blushing bride by the waist and French-dipped her like he had seen in all the movies they watched together, kissing her passionately.

Saber, who had managed to hide her camera under the ruffles of her dress, dashed to the front with supernatural speed, taking a picture of the moment before it was gone.

Eritrea gasped, surprised at the sudden pivot, then realizing what he was doing she chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss her husband as the crowd cheered on.

The rest of the night was filled with dancing, good food, bonding, as well as jokes aplenty by a very drunk Lancer and Rider. Eritrea even serenaded her husband before singing a medley of songs which the crowd joined in for.

But the icing on the cake was when she threw her bridal bouquet and Shirou caught it by accident. Blushing, he searched the crowd for Saber. She blushed in return. Diarmuid and Eritrea laughed amongst themselves.

"Amateurs." they said together, chuckling at the expense of their beloved friends. Then the newly-weds looked into each other's eyes and kissed. It was an embrace filled with the promise of a wonderful new journey ahead.

 **Santorini, Greece.**  
An irritating noise woke Eritrea from her sweet slumber. Realizing it was the alarm clock, she scowled.

She reached for the golden dagger underneath her pillow—the one her husband had given to her as a wedding present, and was about to fling it at the alarm clock when Diarmuid quickly pried the blade from her hands.

"Sweetheart, we talked about this. No destroying anything in the hotel room. I got this."  
"Three...Two..."

Before Eritrea got to zero, Diarmuid had already turned off the device and climbed back into bed.

"Ugh." she groaned, falling into her husband's arms. "The irony is that I set that alarm."   
He leaned over to kiss her cheek.  
"It _is_ the last day of our honeymoon, you don't have to get up so early if you don't want to."

Eritrea sighed like a contented cat, curling up close to Diarmuid. Other than Illya being away in Germany for urgent business with Rider accompanying her as a bodyguard, nothing could possibly rain on her parade.

Or so she thought.

The door flung open, Lancer and Archer tumbled in, clearly caught up in some sort of argument.

"Why do I have to share the room with this jackass again?" Lancer protested like a petulant child.   
"Hey, watch it or I'll knock your teeth out."   
"Oh yeah? Try me..."

First the alarm clock, now this. Eritrea loomed over them as they continued quarreling. Diarmuid stayed back, it was out of his hands now.

"URUSAI!!!"

The two grown men landed on their bottoms, their foreheads red and possibly swollen.

"H-Hai, waga-"

They stopped and blinked at each other before laughing at themselves.

Some things never change.

The day went on without too many hiccups. When they arrived at the beach during sundown, Lancer was arguing with Saber, possibly over the fact that she took the last piece of salmon at lunch without him noticing.

Shirou was attempting to calm them down, to no avail. Their incessant squabbles could not be heard as Eritrea stood a short distance from her husband. Her back facing him with her arms crossed, looking upon the horizon.

Diarmuid knew this was her favorite place to be. Bathed in the golden light of the evening, the sunset always made her feel strong. It gave her clarity of mind and a moment of quiet within the chaos. He understood that there were times she needed to be alone, that sometimes, she didn't belong to anyone except her Maker.

Eritrea turned around to face him, illuminated by the fiery spectacle with her hair cascading behind her. Diarmuid walked towards his wife, holding her close. She looked at the setting sun.

"I've been to so many places in the world. But nowhere as beautiful as this."  
Diarmuid tried to contain the quickening of his heart, "I have."

Eritrea faced her husband now.

"Everyday. Every morning when I wake up to your face. When we brush our teeth tandem-style,"   
The couple laughed before he continued. "When we're watching TV together, wherever you are with me, whenever."

"Every time I look at you, it's the most beautiful place I've ever been."

She smiled at Diarmuid and he did the same for her, pulling her close as he kissed her on the lips. When the pair withdrew they lingered, the setting sun shining through the mere inches between them as the bridge of their noses almost touched. Looking deep into each other's eyes, they lost themselves in their embrace. In the background, somebody shouted.

"EX...CALIBUR!!!" cried Saber, her fist connecting with Lancer's jaw. The blonde blew once on her knuckles, a smug grin plastered on her face while Shirou stood by in awe.

Lancer's face was buried in a pile of sand, raising one arm he replied with a muffled voice.

"I'm okay! I'm alright!"

Archer was gripping his stomach, tossing his head back as he guffawed. Then he felt Lancer's fingers curled around his hair, grabbing him and forcing him to the ground. The two had a playful brawl while spouting profanities at one another. Saber observed the tussle, bemused.

"So... This is how the male species develop their relationships. I can't understand it."

Not far-off from them, a husband and his wife looked on with startled expressions before collapsing into gales of laughter.

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

****

**Sonnet Eighteen: Chapter Two**

**Two years after the wedding.**  
Eritrea pivoted her foot, steadying herself before lunging forward with her dual katanas. Diarmuid deftly moved aside to dodge the attack.

"You've become much faster now, amour." he remarked.  
"All thanks to you, my love."

The clashing of weaponry continued, just another day in the lives of the married couple. Before Eritrea could deliver her surprise attack, she dropped the katana in her right hand and gripped her abdomen. Diarmuid immediately rushed to her side.

"Anata? What's wrong?"

The pain was excruciating, and she started to see flashes of Medea in between pitch black shadows.

"No... It can't be."

The katana in her left hand was still clenched furiously out of habit. Then her vision went dark and she dropped the blade. A horrible clang of the sword sounded as her eyes fluttered close.

Eritrea woke to the sensation of wet cloth on her forehead. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw a silhouette beside her. Dark hair, broad shoulders, a gentle but slightly perturbed smile.

"Feeling better?" the silhouette asked.  
When her vision cleared she replied.   
"A little."   
Then the flashes came back.   
"Ah!"

Pressing her palm to her forehead, Eritrea bolted upright as if waking from a bad dream. She clutched the sheets, anxiety in her widened eyes. Diarmuid dropped the cloth and held his wife, his own fear heightening.

"What happened? What did you see?"   
"Come with me, there is something I must find."

In the century old library, Eritrea skimmed through books, flinging them aside when it wasn't what she was looking for, all the while muttering to herself.

Diarmuid's frown deepened. He had offered to help moments before but his words were unheard by Eritrea, too absorbed in her task and the dread in accomplishing it.

"Must be here, must find it. It must be somewhere-"

She spoke hurriedly to herself, tossing volume after volume behind her until she found a thick burgundy hardcover. A small smile cracked on Eritrea's face, triumph mixed with terror, for she had found what she wanted but its contents would only confirm her fears, elaborating the severity of her condition.

She hastily leafed through the book, nearly tearing the fragile paper. Her breath shook until she stopped at a specific page, eyes roaming across the text. Eritrea's lips parted and her knees buckled. Diarmuid swept in to catch her, waiting patiently for an explanation.

"It is as I feared."

Her finger guided him to a passage. Diarmuid felt a steel ball drop into the pit of his stomach.

"The last spell she attacked me with on the volcano during the second war was no ordinary spell. The physical wound, though healed swiftly, will inflict a side effect on its victim. Vivid nightmares of the one who cast the spell, dreams of what the victim fears."

Diarmuid's stern gaze was now fixed upon his wife.

"This condition... Usually leads to permanent deterioration of the brain and inevitable madness..."

 **One week later.**  
"It's nothing, my love. I've just got a lot of rescue mission reports to complete." smiled Eritrea. 

But Diarmuid learned to see through her lies a long time ago. She wasn't fooling him now.

"Amour, what is it? Please, tell me."

Realizing that pretense was futile against her husband, Eritrea decided to come clean with the truth.

"I can't sleep, which is why I've been staying up as long as I can, occupying myself with something. Anything. Just to avoid going to bed."  
"I know it's difficult, amour, but you can't continue like this. You must rest."   
"NO!" she screamed, backing away from her husband. Her frame trembled as tears spilled forth.   
"Don't you see? If I close my eyes they'll come for me. The nightmares will come for me."

Diarmuid's heart ached so much. Not because his loving wife had screamed at him or recoiled from his touch, but because of one spell, she was not herself anymore. And all he could do was watch as it claimed even more of his darling wife every day. Watch as he tried and failed at fighting her demons.

Diarmuid slowly approached his wife and hugged her, believing that as long as he held her close he could protect her from anything, at least for a while.

"You forget that you don't have to fight this war alone." he said, stroking Eritrea's hair and leaning down to kiss her head.

He smiled assuringly, wiping away her tears. They closed their eyes, each hoping that this sickness would not tear them away from one another. Later that day, Diarmuid was looking out the window with a worried frown slashed across his face.

Whenever he heard something break or a piercing scream from their bedroom, he would drop whatever he was doing and bolt towards Eritrea, fearing the worse. Every time this happened, he would see horrific visions of his wife dying.

Diarmuid was afraid.

Afraid that one day she would attempt her undoing and succeed because the nightmares had become too much for her to bear.

For once, Eritrea was sleeping rather soundly tonight. Diarmuid was relieved but remained no less watchful. Five hours after putting his wife to bed, he heard something crash.

Without thinking, Diarmuid's legs were already carrying him up the steps, horrible images clouding his mind as always during these incidents. This time, Medea appeared in the vision, laughing.

"You're too late. She took the Grail from me, now I will take her from you."  
"Quiet!" he shouted, pounding his fist on the banister. Tears streamed down his face.  
"Please... Please..."

He opened the door with so much force it nearly broke off its hinges. As light flooded the room he saw a figure lying motionless on the ground, beside it was a fallen table and a golden dagger.

Diarmuid felt his limbs turning to lead. Every step was heavy and agonizing. But the warrior within him resounded.

_Snap out of it!_

And he did. Rushing to his wife's side, Diarmuid gripped her shoulders.

"Amour, wake up! You're not leaving me, don't you dare! Please, wake up!"

Eritrea's eyes shot open, her pupils rapidly contracted and dilated, adjusting itself to the light. She reached for the dagger beside her, prepared to strike.

"It's me! It's me. It was just a dream. It's alright now, it's over..."

Eritrea dropped the blade—her shock, fear and anger melted away by hot tears.

"You're safe now." Diarmuid said, holding his wife close.   
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought it was her."   
"Don't apologize, this isn't your fault. You're alive, that's all that matters now."

Eritrea had actually sleepwalked throughout her nightmare and knocked over the table. Having tripped in the process, she collapsed onto the floor.

The following day, Diarmuid and Eritrea went to Christchurch Cathedral for their appointment with Pastor Alex Louis Armstrong.

"I see." said the priest, his expressions as grave as his tone.  
"Is there anything you can do?" asked Diarmuid, holding his wife's hands.  
"The only way we can cure her involves a great cost."  
"Tell us."

Pastor Alex shifted uneasily in his chair, hesitant to explain.

"Please." said Diarmuid.  
"It involves the law of equivalent exchange. To gain something, one must give up something else. In this case, your life for her sanity."

Horror and absolute refusal donned Eritrea's features. Diarmuid gently let go of his wife's hands and stood up.

"I'll do it."  
"No."  
"I will. I'm not taking no for an answer, amour."  
"I have as much a say in this as you do! This is your life we're dealing with here!"  
"I lost you once, I won't do it again!"  
"And if you do this how will it be any different from me losing you?!"

"Perhaps," intervened Pastor Alex. "We should leave things as they are for now. You both have a decision to make, on your own."   
"We can make our decision now. We'll find another way to cure my illness. Diarmuid is not trading his life, that is final."

Without another word, Eritrea stormed out the double doors. Diarmuid wanted to change her mind but he knew that wasn't an option at the moment, so he followed her home.   
When they arrived, Eritrea retired to her bedroom while her husband informed their friends, who had been awaiting the couple's return, of the circumstances.

"We should set out and look for another option. I will go to the north, perhaps there is medication there that could cure Eritrea's ailment." said Saber.  
"Rider and I will return to Germany and consult my finest team of doctors and scientists, if there isn't a cure, we'll make one." continued Illyasviel.  
"I'll go east." said Lancer.  
"I'll head for the south." said Archer.  
"I'll stay behind and help take care of Eritrea." finished Shirou.  
"It's decided then. Thank you, my friends."

A week later, Diarmuid made a secret trip to the church. During the past few days, he avoided the topic of Eritrea's cure so as not to arouse suspicion. When he entered, he found Pastor Alex praying silently in a corner.

"Diarmuid, how may I help you?" smiled the priest.  
"I need you to carry out what you suggested a week before."  
Pastor Alex's smile disappeared.  
"...I agree. Is there a certain hour where her spiritual aura is at its peak?"  
"During sunset and when a full moon is present." answered Diarmuid.  
"Eritrea would never agree to this, so we'll have to wait until the condition has worsened somewhat. Meanwhile, I will make preparations. Bring her here on the seventeenth day of summer, at sundown."  
"Thank you, Pastor Alex."

After leaving the church, he took out his cellphone and dialed a number.

"Archer, it's Diarmuid. I'm taking up the offer Pastor Alex made last week."  
"There's no way Eritrea made that decision with you. You can't do this behind her back."  
"This is the only surefire method of healing her. I need you and Lancer to return and help Pastor Alex with the preparations. Please."

Muffled swearing was heard before Archer gave a civil reply.

"Fine. I'll let Lancer know and we'll be back on the next flight. Don't worry, she won't find out. What about Rider and Saber?"  
"Let them be, for the one in a million chance that there's an alternative. Our deadline is the seventeenth day of summer. If they haven't found another cure by then, make sure they're at the church for the proceedings."  
"Understood."

Diarmuid ended the call and continued his walk home.

_So now I must wait. The sooner she loses her mind the sooner she gets it back. Irony is a cruel thing sometimes._

"Amour, I'm home!"  
"Could you come here for a while, darling?"

Diarmuid walked into the kitchen to see Eritrea at a table with a pen and paper.

"Where's Shirou?" he asked.  
"He's cleaning the bathroom upstairs."

As Diarmuid got closer, he noticed streaks on Eritrea's face from when she had been crying. But he didn't get the chance to find out the reason for her distress.

"I need you to sign this."

Diarmuid looked over the document, it was a petition for divorce. He pushed the paper aside, almost violently.

"Why are you doing this?"  
"It won't be long till I completely lose my mind. By then, I'll only be a burden to you and everyone else. You have so much ahead of you, I can't ask you to throw that away for a hopeless cause. I can't let you be tied down for the rest of your life by a sick woman."

Diarmuid considered her words, then picked up the paper.

"Alright."

He tore the sheet into pieces and tossed them into the dustbin.

"What are you doing?!" Eritrea exclaimed, standing up.  
"I'm not leaving you. I know that you're doing this out of love, but so am I. All of your doubts, all of your heartache, let me hold it with you. You're telling me that I deserve better but I don't want anyone else. I want you. You and no other. I'm staying here, amour, come what may."  
"It's unjustifiable... I can't ask you to do this."

Diarmuid smiled, pulling his wife into a hug.

"You didn't."  
"I don't want to keep breaking your heart."   
"I will gladly choose to have my heart broken by you, than pieced together by anybody else."

He pulled away slightly to look into Eritrea's eyes.

"We will win this battle. Together."

Diarmuid held her close, her head resting in the crook of his neck. He closed his eyes, kissing her forehead before placing his chin above her head. Those were the same words Eritrea had once spoken to him during the war.

After his wife went to bed that night, Diarmuid sat down at his study and took out a fountain pen and a piece of paper. If he was to leave soon, he would have to say a proper goodbye.

He took a moment to put his thoughts together, then he began writing. The elegant script flowed like rivers of ink onto the paper.

_**To my dearest friends. And to my dearly beloved, Eritrea.** _

**Two months later.**  
Eritrea was reading in the library while Diarmuid monitored her from the corner. Occasionally, he glanced at his wife from the book in his hand. She was absorbed in the text, oblivious to the world around her.

He approached Eritrea and planted a kiss on her head. She didn't notice her husband's loving gesture and it broke his heart a little, but Diarmuid simply smiled and caressed her hair before leaving to get another book on the other side of the room.

Just as he reached for the book, Diarmuid heard a shrill cry and a shredding of paper. He ran towards his wife to find her holding a pair of scissors, stabbing and ripping the pages of the book in her hand as she screamed with fear and rage.

He grabbed the scissors from Eritrea, casting it aside and flinging his arms around her. She clung panic-stricken to her husband, distancing herself from the book as though it were a cursed animal.

Diarmuid stroked her hair, whispering soothing syllables before bringing her to the bedroom to rest. He asked Shirou to keep an eye on her while he returned to the library.

Diarmuid picked up the leather-bound volume―now marked by violent lacerations―and saw what had triggered Eritrea's reaction.

A picture of Medea was illustrated in the centre, a description of her powers and the story of her origin on the sides. Even after she was long gone, she continued to haunt his beloved wife, driving her to lunacy.

Diarmuid made a vow in the gloom of the library. He would not allow this to continue.

_Hold on, my love. I will save you._

Rider, Saber and Illya had returned bringing all sorts of medicine. Though Eritrea looked physically better after consuming them, they did nothing for her mind.

As time went by, it deteriorated until she could no longer communicate properly. Eventually, Diarmuid told the three about his plans and asked them to stay since there was no further use in pursuing an alternate cure.

On his way to the church a week later, Diarmuid recalled what happened the night before.

It was just as the priest had said. As they neared the seventeenth day of summer, Eritrea's condition worsened. Diarmuid had tried his best to be patient but after that incident, he could wait no longer.

Diarmuid was on his way to check up on Eritrea who had been put to bed hours ago. Before he reached the door, screams were heard, followed by the sound of something smashing. Diarmuid entered the room to find the dressing table turned over and the floor littered with shards of of a broken vase.

Eritrea clutched a shard with bloodied hands, its tip pointed at the same spot where Medea had inflicted the wound. She would have succeeded, had her husband not stopped her at the last moment.

"She tried to hurt herself last night, thinking she could stop the nightmares if she clawed out the part of her abdomen which bore the wound. The nightmares are becoming too much for her. Can the preparations be readied sooner than expected?"   
"Thanks to Archer and Lancer, the healing process can take place tomorrow, at sunset where her spiritual strength is strongest."  
"I will have her brought here then."

The next day, Diarmuid, along with the rest of his friends, took Eritrea to the church. She shivered and muttered incoherently, unable to register her surroundings. They laid her on the dais and Diarmuid leaned down to kiss her forehead, whispering.

"Is tú a chuisle mo chroí, Eritrea. Remember that for me. Remember that for us."

Pastor Alex squeezed Diarmuid's shoulder.

"It's time, are you ready?"   
He nodded, then reached for something inside his jacket.  
"Please give this to them after I die."   
The priest took the letter, placing it in the folds of his robes.  
"I will. Now, let's proceed."

The sun had just begun setting outside, the day far from over. But Diarmuid knew that his time had come.

 

 


	40. Chapter 40

**Sonnet Eighteen: Chapter Three**

_Play soundtrack above before proceeding._

Warm light filtered through a window where Eritrea was recovering. She stirred, waking from her slumber and was greeted by the six faces of her dearest friends. Sitting up, she smiled at them, blissfully ignorant.

"Hello, my friends."  
Rider inquired, "How are you feeling?"  
"I feel different. I feel...recovered. Incredible."  
"That's good." choked Saber, holding back her tears with a brave smile.  
Lancer spoke, "Lass, there's something you should know-"

"Where's Diarmuid?" asked Eritrea, too eager at her improvement of health to bother with anything else.  
Shirou approached her and place a hand on her shoulder.  
"Eritrea. Your sanity... It came with a price..."

_Eritrea? He addressed me by my first name._

She looked at them, puzzled. Then the truth hit her like a freight train.

"No, no..." she pleaded.

Eritrea searched each of their faces for even the slightest chance that this wasn't real. Pushing past her friends, she stumbled out the doors and into the church. Diarmuid should have been long gone, but he remained corporeal due to his incredible resolve alone.

"DIARMUID!"

Eritrea dropped to his side, "Help him... Help him!" she implored Pastor Alex.

But the priest could only stand to one side and watch. His body language told her that he desperately wanted to, but his eyes said that he couldn't. Eritrea looked back at Diarmuid, speaking frantically.

"Tell me what to do and I'll save you."  
"Don't you see? You already have. Since the day I met you, the day you made your wish to the Grail and every day after that. You've rescued me over and over again. There's no other way I would rather die than to save the woman I love."  
"Why did you do this?! We were going to find another way together!"

A tear streamed down the side of his upturned lips.

"I'm sorry, my love. But if I had to choose... I would always choose to save you."

Eritrea Yunani had always conveyed her opinions with eloquence. This time however, words failed her and only tears were able to say what she herself could not. He smiled calmly, caressing her face.

"Do you remember the day we got married? I thought I was in a beautiful dream. And when we exchanged our vows and I... French-dipped you before kissing your lips." he chuckled. "I realized that it was a beautiful dream that came true. I regret nothing. Especially not this. I love you, amour. In this lifetime and the next."

Eritrea did her best to steady her voice, saying her last words to him as she clasped his palm in one hand and stroked his cheek with the other.

"I loved you then. I love you still."

Diarmuid continued with her, the pair finishing each other's sentences.

"I always have. I always will."

She leaned down to kiss him one last time. The evening light shone on Diarmuid as he faded away in a blur of golden sparks. Eritrea's throat had closed up, making it difficult to breathe.

"Don't leave me..." she begged.

Though Eritrea was in the house of God, she felt no solace for her pain, no sanctuary within these hallowed halls.

"Don't go where I can't follow..."

Where her husband had laid moments ago, only the light that streamed in a window remained. Eritrea crouched beside someone who was no longer there, unable to move.

Her friends came forth, gently raising her to her feet and bringing her out of the church. This time she walked down the aisle, but without her dearly beloved at her side. Stepping out the double doors, she stopped to gaze at the sky.

_Sunset._

But there was no beauty in that, not anymore.

The company continued their journey back home in silence. Returning to Eritrea's mansion was not an option. The house itself was a stark reminder of the life she and Diarmuid could no longer continue building together.

Eritrea stared at the floors of her bedroom, but Archer knew that in her mind, she was already elsewhere. A tear slid out the corner of her blank, distant eyes.

Sometimes, the best form of consolation is given in silence. So Archer bent to her level and wiped away the tear before planting a kiss on her head.

When he did, her eyes widened as if she'd been brought back to earth. Then they squeezed themselves shut, remembering the depth of her heartbreak. With that simple gesture, Archer closed the door, and her figure became enveloped in darkness.

How Eritrea managed to fall asleep that night she did not know, but would later wish she hadn't. Slipping out of consciousness, she tumbled softly into the arms of a beautiful vision.

Reality was still inked with her dreams when she woke up in the middle of the night, honeyed delusions mingling with harsh, unforgiving truth. Eritrea rolled over, reaching out an arm, a tender smile on her face.

"Diarmuid, I-"

Her fingers caught the air, falling onto his side of the bed. By force of habit, she completed her sentence.

"...love you."

For Eritrea, the world had stopped. But in reality, it ticked by all the same and the sun eventually peeked out from behind the shadows. Yet the light only seemed like mockery to her. Suddenly, the door opened and Rider walked in.

"Eritrea, Pastor Alex is here to see you. There was something he wanted to give us. Something from Diarmuid."

When Eritrea heard her friend's entry she paid no mind, already resigning to stay in her bed no matter how much he or she would beg otherwise. Only the mention of Diarmuid had convinced her to see the priest.

When she left her room and walked towards the entrance, Eritrea pretended just for a moment, that the man awaiting her presence would be her husband.

That he would announce his return with a smile while apologizing for his tardiness, and she would tease him for being unfaithful before making breakfast, putting an end to this nightmare.

Pastor Alex thought he discerned the look of hope in her eyes just before it was utterly destroyed. He sighed, handing her a piece of paper.

"Diarmuid wanted me to give this to you after his death. I'm here now because I thought it was too soon yesterday. It's addressed to all of you."

The priest made a small bow to the company then left the way he came.

_Play soundtrack above before proceeding._

Eritrea's slim fingers lingered over the elegant script on the envelope.

_**To my dearest friends. And to my dearly beloved, Eritrea**_.

She opened it with the utmost care and began reading the contents aloud.

"If this letter has reached your hands, then I am certain that it will be read aloud by my darling wife Eritrea, who has always had a way with words. I hope that my last piece of writing will be one that is worthy of your standards.

I'm sorry my love, truly I am. I made the decision to give up my life in exchange for the one ahead of you. I plead with you not to be angered by the actions of our dearest friends, who have aided me in the process. What we decided, what I decided, was done out of unconditional and undying love.

I have divided this letter into personal segments for each of you. Though my words can no longer reach you in person, I pray they will touch you in spirit.

To Arturia Pendragon,  
You were truly a knight worthy of praise. Though I endured injuries from our dual, they will always be wounds that I claim as prized possessions. As you continue to live your life, I hope that you will not allow the mistakes of the past to hold you back from the promises of your future.

To King Iskandar,  
I have always been, and will continue to be thankful for the day you came thundering in to rescue my beloved's life and mine. Before our plummet into absolute despair, you arrived with Waver Velvet, and like a shot of light into the darkness you helped ensure that our part in the Holy Grail War was not at its end.

To Shirou Emiya,  
Thank you, dear Shirou, for watching over my darling Eritrea. While the others crossed vast oceans and distant lands in search of a cure, your effort to stay behind was no less valiant and noble.

By the way, I still kept that tie you ruined on my wedding day. It actually paints a rather apt picture of your character. You always mean well but sometimes you're clumsy and you mess things up in the process."

Shirou's eyes watered, remembering his conversation with the groom on their way to where the wedding ceremony was about to take place.

"I was just trying to get you some coffee, you seemed a little drowsy when you got up today." squeaked the ginger boy, twiddling his thumbs.  
Diarmuid patted him on the back.  
"I forgive you and accept that you tried to do something nice for me even though it went awry."  
"I won't let you or neesan down this time, I've got this. You can count on me!"

Diarmuid's warm smile at him was reassuring enough.

Then Eritrea's crystal clear voice brought Shirou back to the present.

"To Illya,  
In all my travels, I have never met a girl as fearless and opinionated as you, apart from one. So it makes sense that you would address her as your neesan. You will make your own mark in this world, this I know for certain. Never allow your age to hinder you from doing so.

To quote first Timothy chapter four verse twelve:  
Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity.

To Cú Chulainn and Archer,  
Who'd have thought that the two gentlemen I was previously up against became the brothers I never had? I suppose that's what happens when you take a man out for whiskey and ribs, fight him, then fight the police with him.

Know that the Holy Grail Wars are not the highlight of your lives, you both will find purpose one day. When that time comes, pursue it with an inextinguishable passion. You were among the closest friends to my dearly beloved. Take good care of her for me, will you?

To Eritrea Yunani,  
My cherished wife and my dearest companion, I have saved your passage for the last. I'm sorry that I can no longer return the love that you have given to me. All these years I spent with you have been like a dream.

I know that as you read this letter your heart is crying and your soul is aching. But when I chose to sacrifice my life for yours, I did it to see you live the rest of your days to the fullest. You have always been and always will be, all of my burnished sunsets and moonlit evenings.

As my final wish, I ask of you, my dearly beloved, live. Make your presence as profoundly known to the world as you did for me. And no matter where you are, never, ever doubt this, amour."

When her eyes met the final line, Eritrea shattered completely.

 

_"...Is tú a chuisle mo chroí."_

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

****

**Sonnet Eighteen: Chapter Four**

Before his death, when she was subject to the nightmares, reality had been the crutch to which Eritrea clung to for survival. To momentarily ignore what came with the cover of darkness when she laid her head down to rest each night. Now sleep was her transient reprieve from the reality she dreaded every morning that she woke.

When her eyes open, just for a moment, she would be happy. Then she remembers, the truth crashing into her like a speeding vehicle. These days, the pillow was never without a fresh stain of tears.

Now it was reality she feared and sleep that she longed for. What a sick joke. One of the most overused yet accurate phrases in life is that you don't know what something's worth until it's gone.

But what if you did?

There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't thank her Maker for bringing him into her life. She cherished every moment with Diarmuid, devoted herself to him, fought at his side and for his side. Eritrea Yunani knew exactly what she had. And it is that very knowledge, that very attentiveness, that makes the loss so much more painful.

She tried her hardest to fulfill her late husband's wishes but found herself slipping back into her old ways, to a time when she had been cold and withdrawn.

After Diarmuid's passing, Eritrea requested for his belongings to be moved into Shirou's mansion. Her friends would have denied that request, but given the fragile state of her emotions, they yielded. For the next five months, she spent her days at the Association, dealing with paperwork or going on missions. Whenever she got back, she would sort through those belongings.

Pictures of him and pictures of them together, the ornate dagger she kept at her bedside, the suit he wore on that glorious day in Christchurch Cathedral.

Waver Velvet had pleaded with Eritrea to stop working for the moment, but relented after she told him that this was the only way she could prevent herself from falling apart. Convinced, he allowed her to resume her responsibilities.

During Eritrea's illness, Waver had been swamped with all the work he had to undertake in her absence and was therefore incapable of further aiding Diarmuid and his friends aside from funding their trips to search for Eritrea's cure.

Having her return would be a relief, but if the circumstances were too precarious, he would willingly complete the duties of his friend until she was ready. Eritrea was doing rather well when she came back to the Association, but as the months went by she found it increasingly difficult to keep it all together.

One day, she had exerted herself to the point where she needed to be hospitalized. Waver had forbidden her from coming to work since then.

So Eritrea spent the remainder of the year with her friends. Everyday, she would pass the time with anything that could occupy her mind.

Last week, she was looking at a picture Saber had taken of her and Diarmuid during the wedding. In the photograph, Diarmuid was French-dipping his wife. Happy, mischievous expressions on both their faces. It was the moment before he kissed his bride.

She trembled and dropped the picture, cracking the glass pane of its frame. Seeing this, Lancer immediately wrapped her in a hug. Eritrea sobbed helplessly in the arms of her friend as he did his best to shield her from all the pain in the world.

But how could you protect someone from pain when the source of their suffering came from within?

Her friends tried ceaselessly to help, but their efforts were in vain. Yesterday, Eritrea had trained in the dojo from dawn till dusk. Saber entered carrying a tray of food, concern twisting her beautiful features as she approached the brunette. 

"Eritrea, you've been here for almost a day, at least eat something."   
"No. I have too much to do right now."   
"I cannot stand by and watch you starve, trying to slay a foe that isn't there. Please. Have a heart, for yourself. It's what he would have want-"

Eritrea raised her voice to cut her off.

"He's dead. You don't know what he wants."   
"I know it's not this." said Arturia, her kindness unchanging.

Eritrea sighed, lowering her swords. She turned slowly to face her friend.

"He's gone, Arturia. And he took my heart along with him."

She resumed her training, slashing the air with her dual swords. Saber's heart ached at her friend's disposition, but she knew it would do no good to say another word. She left the food and made her way out the dojo. When she entered the kitchen, Shirou gave her a hopeful glance.

"Well?"

Saber looked him in the eye and shook her head.

A month after the fifth Holy Grail War ended, Saber had picked up photography. Not only was she a quick learner, she was also surprisingly adept at it. Saber always managed to capture emotions at the right time in every shot. Even after the death of Eritrea's husband and her dear friend, she continued.

Saber walked into Eritrea's bedroom, dejected at the sight of the woman who hadn't moved so much as an inch since this morning. Her golden brown hair was a tangled mess, pressing the side of her face into the tear-stained pillow. Slowly, she drew aside the curtains and spoke in a gentle tone.

"Eritrea, I'd like to bring you somewhere special today. Just you and I."  
A despondent voice answered, "I'm not feeling up to anything today, Arturia. Perhaps some other time."  
Saber cradled Eritrea's face—a strange, optimistic sparkle in her blue eyes.  
"Trust me, Eritrea."

And she did.

"Do you remember this place?"   
"Like it was yesterday. This was the place I found Diarmuid once during the war. He had left the mansion to find some peace of mind. I told you this on my wedding day."

Saber nodded with a smile, urging her to step closer to the hill.

"Go on."

Eritrea was tentative at first, but the horizon drew her in. She stood at the top of the slope with the wide, grassy fields behind her. Looking far into the sunset, she closed her eyes and her mind drifted back to a memory.

Eritrea had searched all over town, looking for Diarmuid. She cursed inwardly and at the same time, thanked God that she hadn't encountered anyone who wanted to enact a battle royal.

 _Kami_ _-_ _sama_ _, thank You for keeping me safe._ _Diarmuid_ _Ua_ _Duibhne_ _, if you don't have a damn good reason for disappearing I will punch you so hard you go back to Medieval Ireland_.

She tried calling him telepathically, but for some reason she couldn't establish a connection.

_He must have shut off the rest of the world from his mind._

Eritrea saw a thick patch of trees beside her and her instinct started ringing. Heeding her sixth sense, she decided to search there instead.

Coming out of the thicket, Eritrea realized it appeared much denser than it actually was. That's when she found him. Standing on the edge of a hill, overlooking the sunset.

"Took me all day to find you, you know." she said aloud.   
Diarmuid turned to face his master, "Apologies, master. I just needed to clear my head for a while. It was not my intention to trouble you."   
"You can make it up to me by doing tomorrow's laundry." replied Eritrea with a jesting tone before looking at her surroundings. "But for someone who just wanted to get some air you sure did stumble upon a rather beautiful place."

Diarmuid had turned back to face the spectacle, answering his master telepathically.

_"I'm having doubts about the war, about our chances of winning the Grail."_

Eritrea kept silent for a moment, simply observing the body language of her servant. Then she stepped forward and extended her hand.

_"We will win this battle. Together."_

Diarmuid turned around to see Eritrea beaming at him. He returned the gesture with a warm and genuine smile, devoid of the quiet sorrow he kept hidden inside. Diarmuid's fingers slipped easily between the gaps of his master's, newfound confidence shining from his eyes like a rekindled fire.

Like an addict who eventually wakes from a drug-induced reverie, so Eritrea had returned from the land of dreams. A breath of air was knocked out from her lungs and a tear had fallen as she realized it was a distant memory, nothing more.

She spoke aloud to herself, to the winds that she wished would carry her away, to the spirit of her beloved husband.

"Who are you, that I should live my days grieving and spend my nights crying in your absence?"

_If you're there. If you're watching from the Heavens beside my Father._

With a sad laugh, she murmured.

"This sounds so cruel and thoughtless, like an insult to his memory. But sometimes, I wish I was still mad. A broken mind cannot comprehend the concept of a broken heart. The emptiness would have been better if I were not sane enough to know it was there."

Another tear made its way down her face, sliding past her cheek and hanging from her jaw before it fell onto a flower.

"I sacrificed everything to see my beautiful wife smile like she did before. Not to toil through her days with sorrow."

Eritrea's eyes widened.

_I know that voice._

After experiencing the agony that comes with lost, Eritrea had decided never to commit herself again to fragile and fleeting things.

_It can't be. A mere figment of my imagination, surely._

She discreetly drew the golden dagger, preparing herself. Then she turned around, throwing it at her target.

Eritrea believed the knife would be wedged into one of the trees, that Saber would've seen her striking at an invisible enemy. But she needed to get rid of the illusion. Killing the projection of her hysteria would not hurt him, she reasoned.

_Since he's already dead._

Another drop fell onto the flower petal.

But the illusion caught the dagger, lowering it as he stepped a few paces forward. Her face became a contortion of bewilderment as she stood rooted to the ground.

Eritrea felt like she was asphyxiated and drawing breath at the same time, submerged in the freezing waters of the Arctic and burning under the torrid heat of the Afghan sun. Despite the conflicting torrent of emotions, she managed to utter one word.

"Impossible."

Raven hair, golden eyes and a smile that was incomparably sweet and refreshing. The end of one stray lock perched on the high bridge of his nose.

The handsome stranger strapped the dagger to his belt and extended a hand, his stunning eyes giving light to the woman who for the longest time, had been stumbling hopelessly in the shadows.

Eritrea's pessimistic side restrained her actions, knowing that if she foolishly rushed forward now, she would hate herself afterwards.

Though she understood that eventually she would have to face her King's judgement for her sins, she prayed that the Heavens were merciful enough not to punish her this way.

"Eritrea?"

The invisible thread holding her back snapped. Her heart sang and her spirits soared, an emotion only her husband could evoke from her. She ran towards him now, responding to the call of her name, one that he said differently from everyone else.

Eritrea jumped into his arms, the momentum spinning them both till their sides faced the sunset. Diarmuid caught her as he always did, and always would, hoisting her up to look into her eyes before they kissed.

Her sorrow faded like the morning mist, his strength returned like the dawn of a new day. When they pulled apart from the embrace he saw something on her face, glinting in the golden light as it caught the last rays of evening.

A tear.

But one of joy, not pain.

He smiled, wiping it away and lovingly stroking her face. Saber had watched the entire exchange in silence, she too was smiling as she recalled what transpired the night before.

She was lying in bed after finishing the dishes. Feeling particularly tired that day, sleep came quickly. Then Saber heard a voice call out to her. She shot up and looked around the room, seeing nothing she thought it had been from a dream.

Just before she went back to bed, a golden figure materialized in front of her. Saber reached for the katana beside her futon.

"Who are you?" she demanded.  
"An angel from the High King. I have come to deliver a message."  
"Speak."  
"Tomorrow evening, bring Eritrea to the hill she spoke of during her wedding."  
"What is the meaning of this?"  
"It's time, Arturia. He has accomplished his task and can now come home." answered the angel before disappearing.

 _He?_ thought the blonde, now alone in the dark. _It couldn't be._

But for some reason, she knew it was.

Saber was transfixed on the couple before her. The pair closed their eyes as they pressed their foreheads together. When they opened, they gazed deep into each other's eyes. It truly was a sight to behold. The wind had swept all of Eritrea's hair to the left, flowing beside her and Diarmuid.

The flaming sunset illuminated their figures, but it could not possibly compare to the fire between them. Captivated, Saber quickly raised the camera she brought along to take the shot.

Throughout her entire future career as a photographer, Diarmuid and Eritrea would say that that picture was one of her best works.

When the trio made it back to the mansion, Lancer was practicing his cooking—much to the dismay of Shirou, Archer, Rider and Illya.

You had to pity them. They tried sneaking out of the house when they saw Lancer putting on the pink apron, but if Ireland's Man of Light was famous for anything, it was his speed, agility and eagerness to please.

"This is terrible! You've burnt the salmon and the rice is undercooked!" Shirou gagged, spitting out carcinogenic meat.  
"Oops, sorry." replied Lancer with chunks of fish in his mouth, trying to convince himself that the food was still edible.

Illya stuck her tongue out in disgust while Rider shook his head in disapproval.

"Shirou is right, but it's still food. Let's just shove it down our throats and be done with it."

Then Saber, Eritrea and Diarmuid walked in, wordlessly standing there, having decided that the response would be funnier if nothing was said until their presence was noticed. When it was, a lot of choking ensued.

None of it from the food Lancer made.

 

 


	42. Chapter 42

****

**Sonnet Eighteen: Chapter Five**

"That's it. We've been poisoned. Lancer, this is all your fault. I'm seeing things now." said Archer, putting down his cutlery with a mortified expression.

"Bakana..." said Shirou, lumps of rice falling out his gaping mouth with every syllable.

What Eritrea did next only added to their stupefaction.

Archer's eyes widened.

_Eritrea..._

So did Lancer's.

_Laughed...?_

It was a beautiful, lilting sound the entire household hadn't heard for almost a year. 

"How about a meal you can actually eat before we explain everything?" she said.

After their bellies were filled with non-carcinogenic fish, the company waited in silence. Eritrea nodded at her husband and he began.

"It's true that I died after recovering Eritrea's sanity. But due to the purity of my love, God felt I deserved a second chance. In return, I needed to rescue a great number of His disciples who had been captured by a group opposing their faith. A life for a life. It was a highly-sensitive operation so I couldn't risk making contact until I was finished."

Hearing this, their friends appeared relieved and no longer looked at Diarmuid as though he were a product of extreme food poisoning.

"Well, now that you've returned we can finally live together the way we've wanted to." beamed Rider.

Diarmuid turned to look at his wife, interlacing his fingers with hers.

"I look forward to it."

 **The next day.**  
"Amour, could you get the chicken from the oven? It's just done."

Diarmuid smiled, then bent low to take out the roasted meat. Eritrea stepped aside so he could open the hatch. After setting it on the counter, he remained where he was, admiring the woman above him with a love-struck expression.

He placed one hand lightly on the side of her bare thigh. A touch of gentle and loving intent. Then he pushed down the fabric of her undergarment just slightly and planted a kiss on her right hipbone.

Diarmuid stood up, his arm snaking around Eritrea's waist. He rested his head at the centre of her shoulder, taking in a deep breath before kissing her on her neck.

"Good morning, my love." he murmured.

Eritrea turned off the stove, putting out the fires. The hand that held the cooking pan slid down to the arm around her midriff. The fingertips of her other hand turned Diarmuid's jaw to meet hers and she enveloped his lips in a long, ardent kiss.

When they parted, a smile spread across her face like the first rays of the sun slipping out from behind verdant hillsides.

"Good morning."

Today was a special day for two companions, two best friends, and two lovers.

Diarmuid and Eritrea had finally come home, in more ways than one. They went about their day together like they had before his return, delighting in the simple joy of each other's presence.

While the pair cleaned up their bedroom, they sneaked glances at one another and turned away when they were caught. Halfway through, Diarmuid noticed his wife staring at him and he smirked cheekily.

"Amour, what are you looking at?"

Eritrea returned the sly expression and went back to her task.

"Oya, would you look at that? The windows are so dusty." 

Eritrea heard him chuckle as she continued wiping the glass. In the reflection of the window pane, her lips had curled into a soft smile.

When they finished, Eritrea stopped to gaze at the photograph that Saber took the day Diarmuid returned, beautifully framed as it sat on her bedside table. She stroked the corner tenderly, remembering the moment.

Diarmuid approached her and realizing what she was thinking, planted a kiss on her cheek before resting his lips in the dip of her shoulder.

"I love that picture." he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Eritrea brought herself closer into his embrace, leaning up to kiss him on the lips.

"So do I."

That night, Diarmuid and Eritrea engaged in one of the most exhausting yet enjoyable nocturnal activities known to mankind.

Seeing as how they had been apart from each other for so long, it was only natural for the married couple. Though Diarmuid was usually at the bottom, tonight, he would be on top...

...of his wife, cuddling on the couch and having a movie marathon. What were you thinking? Go to church, fool.

"Amour, are you sure you're alright? I'm not too heavy for you?"  
"That's what the woman would normally say in this situation." she laughed. "Don't worry, you're not heavy at all." smiled Eritrea, snuggling her husband like a giant teddy bear.

They were going to watch the entire series of Pirates of the Caribbean. To fit the theme, and because she loved seafood so much, Eritrea had cooked squid for dinner.

Now she was teasing her husband, attacking him with the tentacles as she mimicked Davy Jones. He responded by eating the calamari and peppering his wife with kisses after that.

Diarmuid loved spending time with her like this. But above all, he loved that he was privileged enough to see all the facets of a woman who shrouded most of herself from the world.

To her enemies she was a formidable foe who struck fear into their hearts, reminding them that she was not one to be trifled with. To kind strangers and the people she loved, she was open and giving, her generosity making an eternal home in their hearts.

To him, she was anything and everything that she was, every side and shade of her character revealed. A rare and sacred sight to behold.

 **Five years later.**  
The doorbell sounded and Eritrea hastened to answer it, sliding down the banister of the marble staircase.

"Coming!"  
"Oof!" she grunted as two adorable children tackled her to the floor. Seeing their faces, hers lit up.  
"Hey! What are you rascals doing here?"  
The younger child replied.  
"We came back early to see you and Uncle Diarmuid!"

Two adults walked in, a ginger-haired male picking up the children while a blonde lady helped Eritrea to her feet.

"Sorry to barge in on you and Diarmuid like this, but the kids missed you both so much on vacation that we had to cut things short."  
"Nonsense, this is as much your home as it is mine."

After Diarmuid's return, Shirou and Arturia decided that life was too short and unpredictable to let love pass them by. So at long last, they acknowledged their pent-up feelings for one another, resulting in marriage, and eventually, children.

Cheesy?

Yes.

Perfect?

Also yes.

Shirou set his two kids down, giving Eritrea a big hug.

"It's wonderful to see you again, neesan. So, where's Diarmuid?"  
"Well, you're all in for a treat today. Lancer just got back from his fishing trip to make good on that friendly dual with Diarmuid. Waver dropped by too!"

When the group made it to the courtyard, they found Diarmuid and Lancer taking long drinks of water, resting in the late afternoon heat.

"Finished already?" chuckled Eritrea. "I thought the dual would last till sundown."  
"Hello, gorgeous." winked Lancer, leaning against his spear.  
"Hey, go find your own wife." Diarmuid jested, playfully punching his shoulder.  
"And hello to you too, Mr. and Mrs. Emiya. Nice to see you've brought the kids over." said Lancer, teasing Diarmuid by deliberately ignoring him.

"Hey Lancer! Why don't you and I have a dual of our own?" asked Eritrea, taking her two katanas from a rack on the wall.  
"The day I get to fight with a strong, beautiful woman is the day I can die in peace."

She looked so much like her husband when he wielded his dual lances in battle. Diarmuid smiled adoringly at his wife as he watched her prepare herself. Lancer and Eritrea bowed low before commencing the fight.

It was as skillful as it was beautiful, a fluid dance of agile limbs and sleek weaponry. The children bounced up and down on their bottoms, cheering their aunt and uncle on. The sun was setting, its fiery glow cast upon the duo. The pleasant courtyard had now transformed into a dramatic battlefield.

Eritrea delivered concentrated hits to Lancer at several specific pressure points before launching herself upwards, spinning in mid-air and throwing one katana at Lancer.

He stepped to the left, just as she predicted. Landing from her jump, she made the last move. Before Lancer could figure out what she did, her blade was already at his neck.

"Ireland's Man of Light. Do you yield?"

Lancer gazed upwards, taking in the sight of Eritrea basking in the afterglow of the sunset with her fierce eyes, her long hair flowing in the wind behind that tall, proud figure, and was reminded of the young girl he saw making her wish on the volcano.

He sighed, never happier to admit defeat.

"I yield."

Eritrea swiftly retracted the blade, extending a hand to help him to his feet. He took her palm in his, turning it over and kissing it before he got up. The children rushed forward to hug them both before Lancer and Eritrea began playing with them.

Illya, who had grown tired of pestering Rider and Archer, joined in the fun with Saber. The merry bunch ran about the courtyard in the last golden rays of day.

_Play soundtrack above before proceeding._

From where he sat watching, a smile made its way across Diarmuid's face. Shirou and Waver were beside him, sipping on cups of green tea. The three sat together in silence. Then Diarmuid spoke as he continued observing his wife.

"You know, every time I kiss her lips or gaze into her eyes, I can see the next sixty years of our life."

At that moment, Eritrea turned to look at her husband from outside, smiling. And he knew that she was thinking the exact same thing. Waver chuckled, causing Diarmuid to inquire.

"Something wrong, Waver?"  
"It's just, in all the time that I've known her, I always thought she wouldn't be with anyone. We talked about it, Rider and I, after you and Eritrea left my grandparents' house that day. Despite her natural disinclination towards love, we still thought you two had something special."

Waver paused, putting down his cup.  
"Guess we were right after all."

That night, Shirou and Saber pulled out all the stops for dinner. Everyone was gathered around the table, their bellies filling up with good food and rumbling with hearty chortles.

"Okay, okay, so you two may have taken a little less time in deciding you wanted to get hitched but let's not forget that you caught the bridal bouquet at _our_ wedding. So technically, we sealed the deal." said Eritrea.  
To which her husband replied.  
"You got that right."

The pair performed a perfect high-five while maintaining their gaze on Shirou and Saber.

"Alright then, you win. As usual... I really look forward to the day you're wrong, neesan."  
"Don't make bets you can't win, Shirou." said Eritrea with a smirk akin to her husband's.

Shirou's youngest child piped up, raising his tiny hand like a student in class.

"Aunt Eri!"  
"Yes, munchkin?"  
"How did you and Uncle Diarmuid meet?"

Diarmuid coughed as he choked on his food, and suddenly the idea of battling a Heroic Spirit didn't seem so bad. Eritrea set down her cup of tea and smiled at the boy, looking all too happy to embarrass her husband.

"Well it was all very romantic, you see. I was out for a night walk, got into a little fight with a pickpocket. Then Uncle Diarmuid appeared out of nowhere and accidentally saved me."

The little one had his eyes wide and sparkling in fascination. Though he looked upon his uncle with admiration, Diarmuid felt more like crawling into a hole.

"Then he tried to kill me." said Eritrea, finishing with a picture-perfect smile.

Saber and Shirou gasped, quickly covering the ears of their children.

"You never told us that!" exclaimed Shirou. "What if the kids start thinking that loving someone means wanting to kill them?!"  
"Well, you're not wrong." smirked Eritrea.

"We should tell them about the wars someday." chimed Rider, who was simultaneously trying to comfort poor Diarmuid.  
"But for now let's just have dinner." said Arturia.  
"Agreed." replied Eritrea.

"But seriously, Diarmuid? Why?" asked Lancer, laughing along with Archer.  
"It was miscommunication on my part." groaned Diarmuid, now hugging his wife and burying his face into her side to hide his bashfulness. "Did you really have to, amour?"  
"There, there." she chuckled, stroking his back. "I still love you, accidental attempted homicide and all."

"Well that would probably be me. And then after that we'd have makeup se-"

Arturia's hand went flying to Lancer's mouth.

"THERE ARE CHILDREN AT THIS TABLE, YOUNG MAN."

Ah well, life at its finest, eh?

As the laughter and chatter resumed, Eritrea took a moment to look at the faces around her.

The day she defeated Medea and the Grail, the day she got married, the day Saber punched Lancer on the beach during her honeymoon, the day her husband died to recover her sanity and the day he came back, all flashed before her eyes like a cinematic reel. The memories as vivid as the day she lived them.

Returning to the present, Eritrea smiled. It was exactly like the epiphany she had on her wedding day.

Only this time,

               It was a reality.

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

****

**Sonnet Eighteen: Epilogue**

After landing a job at Victoria's Secret as a cashier, Diarmuid had quickly grown popular among the female customers.

Perhaps too popular.

His wife didn't mind. In fact, she found it terribly amusing. That is, until the catfights broke out.

At this moment, she was seated outside the store on a bench, sipping fruit juice and observing the hordes of women who harangued her husband.

Every one of them were throwing themselves at him, vying for his attention by batting their eyelashes and pressing their cleavage against his body. Eritrea nearly choked on her beverage from laughing so much.

"Yare, yare." she exclaimed in Japanese. "It appears there _are_ downsides to being too attractive."

Diarmuid, through glances in between clamoring lingerie and bosoms, spotted his dearly beloved waiting outside for his shift to finish, chuckling to herself while she was at it. He laughed wryly when he heard her opinion, since she had voiced it both verbally and telepathically.

Around him, things were getting heated amongst the females. Tension vibrated through the perfumed air as the women exchanged hostile glances. The claws, as Diarmuid would later put it, were about to come out.

"I was here first!" shouted a busty blonde at a brunette.  
"He said he would help me before you!"  
"Now, ladies I-" began Diarmuid, but his attempts at peacemaker were to no avail.

More female customers closed in, each of them arguing over who should be serviced first by the devastatingly handsome cashier. They came closer and closer, forming a human wall around Diarmuid and suffocating the poor man.

_This is it. This is how I go. Death by cleavage._

Just before he was submerged by the crowd, he cried out in desperation.

"ANATAAA!!!"

"Mattaku, I've been having too much fun." said Eritrea in calm tones, standing up and tossing the empty drink into a wastebasket.

Then with a smirk on her lips and fire in her eyes, she dashed towards her knight in distress.

"I'M COMING, HONEYYY!!!"

_The End._

 

 

 


	44. Chapter 44

****

**Sonnet Nineteen: Chapter One**

"Going somewhere?"

Diarmuid directed his attention from the suitcase he had been packing to the voice behind him.

Leaning against the doorframe was Eritrea Yunani, her hair slightly tousled, arms folded and one leg crossed in front of the other. The very picture of effortless beauty.

The morning light shone on her tresses, making its colour all the more prominent. Diarmuid felt his heart sigh ever so softly, then composing himself, he replied.

"I was thinking of paying Urahara-san a visit since I haven't seen him in a while."  
"How long will you be away?"  
"Just for a day or two."  
"Ah, I see..." said Eritrea, her eyes drifting to the floor as she cleared non-existent dirt from her nails.

Diarmuid noticed the gesture and like the gentleman he was, extended a cordial invitation.

"Would you like to come along?"  
"I thought you'd never ask."  
"So you knew I was planning this all the while?" smiled the man.  
"What kind of question is that, Diarmuid? One does not become the head of an organization by being unobservant."

Not waiting for his rebuttal she scurried away, her voice echoing down the hallway just loud enough for Diarmuid to hear.

"I'll only need thirty minutes!"

Back in his room, he chuckled to himself. Not many people knew this but aside from her intimidating and cool demeanor, there was also a childlike curiosity and thirst for adventure. A characteristic Diarmuid found most endearing.

They arrived in Karakura in less than thirty minutes, and it only took them another fifteen to walk to Urahara's shop. Sitting on the porch with a black cat beside him, was the owner himself.

"Oya? Diarmuid! Here to visit me? How nice. And you've brought a lady friend too!"  
"Hisashiburi, Urahara-san." smiled Diarmuid. "This is Eritrea Yunani. Eritrea, meet Kisuke Urahara."  
"Yoroshiku onegaishimasu." said Eritrea, giving a small bow.  
"Īe, īe, kochira koso! No need to be so formal." gushed Urahara, waving his fan. "Dozo." he continued, gesturing to the open doors behind him.

"Is Tessai-san around? I didn't see him cleaning up outside like he usually does." asked Diarmuid.  
"Tessai-san has gone off to get some supplies, he should be coming back soon."  
"Ah, I see. Is everything going well with the shop?"  
"Yes, business is good..."

Eritrea walked behind them, no longer keeping track of their words, stopping instead to look at the merchandise lining the shelves.

Urahara turned subtly to give her a knowing glance before continuing his conversation with Diarmuid. There was definitely some strange energy in the atmosphere when he was resting outside that morning. A unique and powerful spiritual aura laying dormant within a human body.

"Eritrea?"   
"Ah! Apologies, Diarmuid. I was just looking at the products."   
Eritrea's gaze shifted to the other male, "Urahara-san, I couldn't help but notice your goods aren't those usually found at other candy stores. Are these artisanal sweets?"  
"Nothing so fancy, Eritrea-san. I'm just a humble candy-shop owner." smiled Urahara, one eye hidden by the brim of his hat.

The Commander's finely tuned senses told her he was far more than that. In those few seconds of eye-contact, Eritrea and Urahara had a conversation of their own, each knowing there was much more to the other than what they displayed on the surface. Just like the shop they were in.

Urahara reverted to his bubbly and carefree self, nudging Diarmuid with his elbow.

"Why don't you bring Eritrea-san out to explore? Wouldn't be nice to keep such a pretty lady cooped up all day in this place."

Though the First Spear of Fianna was a grown man, well-versed with the decorum afforded to women, the light blush on his cheeks made him look like a nervous adolescent on his first date. He raised his eyes to meet Eritrea's in attempt to read the situation first. She smiled at him, giving him the confidence to proceed.

Diarmuid offered a hand, "Shall we, Eritrea?"  
"Let's be off, then." she said, hooking his arm with hers. Before leaving, she turned to Urahara.   
"I look forward to getting to know you better, Urahara-san."  
"Go ahead and enjoy yourselves! There'll be plenty of time for that later, Eritrea-san."

"So how well do you know Urahara-san?" asked Eritrea once they were alone.  
"He's rather laid back and jovial. But underneath all that, Urahara-san is also a sagacious man."  
"I see."  
"What do you think of him?"  
"I think..." began Eritrea, a cunning look hidden in her smile. "We're going to be very good friends."

Diarmuid noticed the expression but before he could interrogate her (in a gentlemanly fashion), Eritrea led the way, tugging on his arm.

"Come, there's something I want to show you."

 **One hour later.**  
"Isn't this..."   
"Yes, Lady Olivier's former mansion."

Diarmuid followed Eritrea up the steps, staring wide-eyed at the structure. As they neared the entrance, Diarmuid heard the sound of synchronized shouts and stomping of feet. He watched as Eritrea went ahead, pushing open the giant red doors with both hands. The disciplined rhythm stopped, replaced by a man's voice.

"Senshu!"

Everyone inside bowed low and Diarmuid saw that Eritrea was doing the same. When she rose, she was smiling from ear-to-ear.

"Tadaima!"  
"Okaerinasai, Eritrea-sama!" shouted the students, running forth and crowding around the visitor. Amidst all the commotion, two blond men walked up to her and the students parted to allow their instructors through. She hugged them both, speaking fondly.

"Hisashiburi, Al, Ed."

The Elric brothers grunted in agreement. Then Eritrea felt a slight tug on her shirt and she looked down to see one of the students pointing outside.

"Eritrea-sama, who's that?"  
She chuckled, "Well don't just stand there, Diarmuid. Come say hello! Mina-san, this is Diarmuid. Be nice to him, okay?"  
"Hai!" shouted the children, jumping up adorably with excitement.

The four adults walked around the dojo, watching the students as they resumed practicing on their own.

"I see they've improved a lot since I last came." said Eritrea, smiling proudly.  
"They kept asking me about when you'd drop by. It's a good thing you're here, I was at the end of my rope. Takku." grumbled Edward.  
"Nii-san says that but on the inside he loves those kids to death." tittered Alphonse.  
"Oi! Don't say that in front of the students, they might hear you!"   
"Hai, hai, tsundere Sensei." chuckled Eritrea, messing up Edward's hair before turning to Diarmuid.  
"After being appointed as Commander, I had this mansion rebuilt as a martial arts centre for Edward and Alphonse. Some of the children here are orphans who live in the mansion with them."  
"It's wonderful." he beamed.

Diarmuid's mind flickered back to the first time he saw this place. Billows of smoke choked the air. Flames were spread across the floors like pools of fire, and his master back then had tears streaming down her face.

Now the pillars were rebuilt, sturdy beams supported the roof, and the energetic sounds of life resounded within the walls. But above all, there were no longer any tears of loss in Eritrea's eyes.

"So, Diarmuid-san, you look like a very athletic person. Do you practice martial arts as well?" asked Edward, waking the man from his thoughts.  
"As a matter of fact, I do."  
"Hand-to-hand combat? Or with katanas like Eritrea?"   
"Actually I prefer using the Bō."   
"Could you show us? I'm sure the students would love to see it too!" chimed Alphonse.  
"If that's alright with you."  
"Of course! Everyone, listen up!" said Alphonse, clapping his hands twice. "Sit in rows of three, Diarmuid-san is going to show us something special!"

With his audience assembled, Diarmuid grasped the weapon, twirling it experimentally to warm himself up. Then he executed a sequence of complex movements—spinning, jumping and striking. The children 'ooh-ed' and 'ah-ed', even their instructors were impressed.

Watching Diarmuid move with such effortless grace caused a wave of nostalgia to wash over Eritrea. He was one of the rare few who could make self-defense look like an art form.

When he finished, the crowd went wild. Diarmuid, not expecting this response, was both flattered and slightly embarrassed. Eritrea walked over, taking the Bō from his hand and stepping into the limelight.

"Mina-san, did you like that?"  
"Hai!"

Eritrea whispered to Diarmuid, "Good job. Now it's time for _you_ to watch and learn."

"Alright everyone, now senpai is going to show you a special move I used when I was cornered by a fully grown Bengal tiger in India."  
"Waaah~" exclaimed the children, much to Eritrea's pleasure.

The time passed quickly and soon, everyone gathered by the doors to say their goodbyes.

"Eritrea-sama, Diarmuid-san, mata ne!"  
"Bye-bye!" she shouted, waving alongside Diarmuid.

As the pair descended the lengthy staircase, Eritrea's head throbbed and she tripped. Diarmuid caught her just in time, worry in his features.

"Eritrea, are you alright?"  
"Yes, just sleep deprivation. That's why Waver insisted I take a break from work."  
"Let's get back quickly then, so you can rest."  
"Before we do, there's one more place I need to visit."

 **Karakura** **Memorial.**  
Diarmuid stood beside Eritrea in silence, facing a headstone where she had just place a bouquet of white roses. Inscribed on the stone, were the words:

**_Here lies Lady Olivier Mira Armstrong_ **   
**_Warrior, mentor and devoted servant of God._ **   
**_1970-2009_ **

Diarmuid place a hand on Eritrea's shoulder.

"She would have been proud to see the woman you are today."

With her eyes still fixed upon the headstone, Eritrea reached up, her own hand touching his.

"I hope so."

"Let's go home." smiled Diarmuid, saying the words exactly how Eritrea did all those years ago.  
"Let's."

 _This reminds me of the first time I showed him around_ _Fuyuki_ _City. Except now, neither of us are tourists anymore._ thought Eritrea.

 _This feels just like the first time we got to know each other. She was only sixteen back then._ _How the years have gone by. Like seasons in a blink of an eye._ sighed Diarmuid quietly.

A different time and place, but with a setting sun no less beautiful than the first they experienced together. Diarmuid halted in his tracks, caught in a daze. Eritrea noticed his absence by her side and turned around to see his silhouette against the golden backdrop.

A light gust of wind whistled through the trees, sweeping dry leaves across the pavement. But unlike this scenario years ago, there was no grief in Diarmuid's countenance when he stopped walking. Instead his eyes held a genuine happiness, as bright as the evening sky above them.

His warm smile reached across the distance to Eritrea, the ends of her lips curling upwards as she responded in kind. Then he caught up to her and continued the journey home.

It had been a lovely day thus far. However, a certain unease lingered at the back of Eritrea's mind, like a deadly enemy hidden in plain sight. The Commander dismissed her suspicions as paranoia. Even so, she was thankful for the dual katana blades strapped to her back.

It was nightfall when she and Diarmuid reached the housing area. Lady Olivier's voice whispered through her thoughts, warning her of an impending danger.

_"The forces of evil are strongest once the sun goes down."_

Eritrea furrowed her brows as a bead of sweat ran down her forehead.

_Why that memory out of all the ones we've shared together?_

In the next second, a chain of events occurred all at once. Eritrea's senses became more responsive to her surroundings as a burst of energy pulsed through her body. The uneasiness which she had stowed away in the back of her mind was now ringing in her head, refusing to be ignored.

The aura around them was dark and unwelcoming. Even the street lamps seemed to flicker in fear. A menacing presence was close, waiting to be noticed.

Eritrea's head throbbed painfully and she fell into Diarmuid's arms. She could hear the muffled sound of his voice, no doubt asking whether she was alright. But the words themselves were unclear, like the aftereffects of a stun grenade. Her eyelids fluttered slowly and each time they opened she thought she could discern a vague outline closing in.

_Pull yourself together, woman. You've been trained to deal with situations like this._

Eritrea's battle-hardened instincts overtook her body's conditions and when her eyes snapped open, a large purple creature with a white mask was approaching them.

"Diarmuid, run! There's something coming towards us!"  
"What are you talking about, Eritrea? There's nothing there."

Eritrea's eyes widened and her lips parted again to explain, but time had already run out. Quick as a flash, she pushed Diarmuid to the opposite side and somersaulted backwards.

Upon landing, she drew her gun from the folds of her jacket and fired two shots to the chest and three between the eyes. The bullets found their mark but they only provoked the creature instead of putting it down.

With a spine-chilling roar, it dashed forward. Eritrea drew her double swords for close quarters. Out the corner of her eye, she could see Diarmuid inching forward.

"Ugokanaide! You don't know where it is!" she ordered.

Backed against an unlit street lamp, Diarmuid watched in both confusion and horror at Eritrea. Something was bearing down upon her, but he could not see it. To anyone else it would appear as though she was fighting with thin air.

Every nerve in his body screamed at him to rush to her aid, but his warrior's instinct told him that he would only get in the way. Meanwhile, Eritrea remained on the defensive.

As hideous as this adversary was, it certainly possessed great strength. She spared a glance behind her, calculating the distance and taking note of her footing.

_If I  push hard enough I'll have just a few seconds to jump._

Her heels slid back from the force and her arms were beginning to shake. Eritrea mustered all her strength into one good shove before leaping backwards to safety.

However, she wasn't quick enough and the creature gashed her forearm. Fresh blood splattered onto the pavement. Panting heavily, Eritrea looked at Diarmuid, her eyes carrying an emotion she had never shown to the soldiers she commanded at the Association.

Fear.

The creature caught her gaze and shifted its attention to Diarmuid, reasoning that the male would make for a much easier meal. Eritrea fired her remaining bullets, regaining its attention. It charged towards her now, howling as it went.

Not wanting to risk an unsuccessful blow, Eritrea threw one katana at the eye uncovered by its mask and the other at the centre of its neck. Then she scooted past and grabbed Diarmuid's hand.

"What was that, Eritrea?!"  
"Not now, Diarmuid!"

Eritrea's katanas had only impeded the monster for a while and before too long, it was continuing the chase. She would have kept one sword instead of sacrificing both, but that was only if she had any chance at winning through combat. Escape now was their best option.

The creature was gaining on them, driven mad by hunger and bloodlust. Eritrea saw its arm reaching out for them. With her weapons depleted and no one to save them, she did the very last thing she could.

Diarmuid felt the strong push of two hands, propelling him forward as he nearly lost his balance. Turning around, he saw Eritrea on the ground, her arms bound to her chest as if held by an invisible hand. Pleading with her eyes, Eritrea gave the one order she knew Diarmuid would hate himself for obeying.

A strained and desperate cry rang out, tearing apart the stillness of the night.

"NIGERO!"

 

 


	45. Chapter 45

****

**Sonnet Nineteen: Chapter Two**

Diarmuid remained where he was, paralyzed by indecision. Half of him wanted to follow Eritrea's command, the other half wanted to charge forward and save her from the enemy. But how does one fight an enemy they cannot even see?

For the first time throughout his lengthy history of combat, the First Spear of the Fianna was completely helpless. Trapped in the hands of the monster, Eritrea watched its mouth open wide, ready to swallow her whole.

"Nake, Benihime."

A crimson arc of energy cut the creature, splitting its mask and head in two before it disappeared into specks of ash. With the creature no longer looming above her, Eritrea saw the figure of her savior.

He was clad in white and dark green. With shrewd, piercing eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat.

_Urahara_ _-_ _san_ _?_

Before Eritrea could open her mouth, Urahara helped her to her feet.

"Why don't we answer all your questions while I patch up that wound?"

 **Urahara** **Shop.**  
"In this world, there are two types of souls. The first are called 'Plus', the ordinary spirits. And the others are called 'Hollow', which is the creature that attacked you earlier. They consume the souls of the living and the dead indiscriminately. In other words, bad spirits. There are also guardians of the souls known as Shinigami. They have two jobs, one is to lead the Plus to Soul Society through a process called a 'Soul Burial', the other is to kill Hollows and purify them."  
"Then am I correct in presuming you are a Shinigami yourself?"  
"You give me too much credit, Eritrea-san. These days I'm just a plain old candy store owner."  
"Why was I the only one who could see the Hollow?"  
"Only those possessing a Shinigami's spiritual energy can do that. Though rarely found in humans, yours is capable of transitioning into a Shinigami's."  
"So you're saying that if I want to, I can become a Shinigami?"  
"Correct! There's been an increase in the number of Hollows appearing in the human realm lately. So if you do, it would be a big help."

Urahara's cheerful tone turned serious,.

"It's a very big decision. You are of course under no obligation but I thought you should know that you have that power."

Eritrea nodded once before looking at the black cat beside Urahara. A tingle of suspicion nagged at her when faced with the piercing yellow eyes of the feline.

_Maybe I'm just being paranoid but there's something odd about that cat, though now isn't the time to ask about that._

"The wound is a little deep but I've patched it up with this bandage containing special herbs. Just change the dressing when you get back home tomorrow."  
"Won't the Hollows simply follow me back to Fuyuki?"  
"I've placed a spiritual seal that will mask your energy until it's removed. You should return, you've got something to think about."  
"Are there any more Hollows in the vicinity right now?"  
"No, it's clear."

She headed towards the door with a manner of restrained urgency. As though she couldn't wait to get out of there but wanted to appear otherwise.

"Good. I need some air."

Once the door closed, Urahara began making dinner while Diarmuid sat at the table with his head down.

"I'm glad to have finally met the woman you told me about when you first came to live here, Diarmuid." remarked the cook, buoyant as always.

The lack of response halted a knife against a chopping board.

"Diarmuid, tomorrow is never certain. If you have something to say, now is all you have."

Meanwhile, Eritrea was taking aimless steps down the road. She looked to the skies and chuckled bitterly.

_Even the moon tonight reflects the state of my heart. Divided into halves, unsure of which one to be._

"Eritrea!"

The Commander woke from her musings, whipping her head around to see Diarmuid running down the path towards her. It was only then did she realize just how far she had walked.

"Doshta?"

Diarmuid could not reply at the moment, choosing instead to catch his breath. But when he finally straightened up she saw that his golden eyes were clouded over with apprehension.

"No need to look so afraid." she chuckled. "It's just a short walk, Diarmuid. I'm not going anywh-"

"Stay."

Eritrea's eyes widened in surprise and her limbs stiffened. Diarmuid had only spoken in whispers, but the syllable echoed in her ears.

It was too painful for him to look her in the eye, so he rested his head on her shoulder, his warm breath against her skin as his lips grazed her collarbone.

Diarmuid had a comfortable grasp of Eritrea's hand, their fingers intertwined closely. Why then did he feel as if she was already slipping away?

"...Please."

He had not expected this request to be so difficult to put forth. His voice, usually smooth and pleasant, cracked as his throat closed up. He hated himself for this. For being possessive of someone who wasn't even his to begin with. But he was human once, and he was human now.

And humans, were intrinsically selfish creatures.

Once the initial surprise had subsided, an all too familiar sorrow settled into her eyes. Diarmuid didn't even have to look at her to know that. She raised his face to hers, giving a smile of comfort, one that told him she could not make any promises now.

Then Eritrea retracted her palms and made her way back to Urahara's shop. As Diarmuid watched her walk ahead, he sighed quietly.

_I fell in love with a woman who resembles the wind._

At that moment, she turned around. As though the forces of nature had heard his thoughts, her long tresses were lifted high and began dancing in a passing breeze.

_Here one day, gone the next._

When Archer answered the door the next morning, he was not expecting to see the people outside.

"You two are back early. I thought you'd be gone for another day or so."

His statement was met with silence. Puzzled, he studied their expressions before noticing Eritrea's forearm.

"How did that happen?" he asked, trying not to glare at Diarmuid for supposedly failing to take care of her while they were away.  
"I'll tell everyone later, right now I need to change these bandages."  
"I'll help you."

Too preoccupied with other thoughts to decline, Eritrea went to her room with Archer following behind. After putting on a fresh bandage, Archer held onto her injured forearm.

"Was this Diarmuid's fault?"  
"No, no. It wasn't, really."  
"Okay, I trust that. Whatever it was, please be more careful."  
"I will. Thank you for changing my bandage."

Archer looked seriously at Eritrea.

"You know that I care for you, right?"

She place her good arm over his, speaking softly.

"I do. I'll be more careful, I promise."

Archer's gaze followed her as she left the room.

_Where are you running off to this time, Eritrea?_

Eritrea took the train to work everyday, until it became second-nature to her. But ever since that visit to Urahara's, it was no longer a mindless action.

These days, when she arrived at her stop, Eritrea wondered if she should just wait for the doors to close and let the train carry her off to Karakura. And on her way back home, she wondered if she should board the next train for Karakura instead of returning to Fuyuki.

The doors opened and throngs of civilians passed through, some leaving while others entered. Eritrea gripped the metal pole until the pads of her fingertips turned white. But with a disappointed sigh, she let go and stepped off the train.

_Maybe next time._

Arriving at the Association, the Commander delved straight into her paperwork in attempt to drown out her thoughts. But every now and then she would catch herself stopping in the middle of writing a report, staring at nothing in particular with the pen still in hand.

At one point, she looked out the window, frowning slightly at the view. The sky was grey and clouded, like her mind.

As for Diarmuid and Archer, the two gentleman had agreed to give her as much time as she needed and were patiently waiting for her final decision. To quote verbatim, she still had to do a little...

_Soul-searching. Wow, that was so cliché. Gosh, I hate myself._

"Eritrea...Eritrea?"

So absorbed was the Commander in her thoughts that she did not hear someone calling out to her. Until that someone cleared their throat loudly, getting her attention at last.

"Is the view really so captivating?"

Startled, Eritrea turned around in her swivel chair to find Waver by the door.

"That's the fourth time you've spaced out today." he said, entering the office and settling into the chair opposite Eritrea. "You've been acting a little...strange, ever since your day off. What happened?"

The Commander sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair.  
"Since you're here I might as well tell you."

After processing the information, Waver steepled his fingers and observed the Commander.

"Are you going to accept the offer he made you?"

Eritrea fiddled with the pen in her hand, looking anywhere but in her friend's direction.

"Would you be disappointed if I said I was considering it?"  
"I'd only be disappointed if you made a choice you weren't happy with."  
She couldn't say anything to that.   
"Whatever you decide," Waver got up from his chair. "make sure it was out of genuine desire, not obligation. Go home, if I keep paying you for no work I'll go out of business." he joked.

Before he reached the door, Waver turned around with a smirk on his face.

"Oh, and if you do take him up on his offer, just be sure to find a suitable replacement."

For once, it was Waver Velvet who had the last word instead of Eritrea.

Eritrea chuckled, _my penchant for smugness must have rubbed off on him._

Reaching the Emiya residence, Eritrea went straight to her bedroom but instead of resting, she sat on the floor doing absolutely nothing.

Compelled by some unknown curiosity, she lifted her shirt to look at the old wound Caster had given her during the last Holy Grail War. The spell had left a purplish marking, akin to that of a winding stream.

"How's the wound?"  
Eritrea turned her attention towards the door where Lancer stood.  
"Like a toddler drew on me with a purple crayon but other than that it's fine. Nostalgic, if anything."  
"You know, sometimes I think you put yourself in dangerous situations just for the hell of it."

Eritrea chuckled, she _did_ have a reckless side sometimes. But then her features became contemplative, almost wistful.

"Or, maybe I'm just going where I'm needed. Maybe my work here is already done."  
"Maybe. But wherever you go, I know you're goanna do great things, lass." said Lancer, giving her his trademark toothy grin before leaving Eritrea to her thoughts.

She went out to the courtyard. A loud rumble of thunder shook her bones and Eritrea raised her head in anticipation of the coming storm.

The first drop came, landing just beneath her eye and running down her face like a tear. Heavy showers of rain followed not a moment after, drenching her from head to toe.

 _Archer,_ _Diarmuid_ _... Are these your tears? The ones you could never bring yourself to shed in front of me?_ thought Eritrea, her palms held out and her lips parted slightly.

Her arms fell back to their sides and her head was hung low.

_Kami_ _-_ _sama_ _,_

A drop of rain quivered on the edge of her upper lip before falling to the ground.

 _Dou_ _sureba_ _ii_ _..._

**Author's Note: Dou** **sureba** **ii** **means 'what should I do'.**

 

 


	46. Chapter 46

****

**Sonnet Nineteen: Chapter Three**

Commander Eritrea was perusing a stack of application forms for new recruits. As she stamped her approval onto the document, a knock was heard.

"Come in." she said, putting away the forms and getting started on the reports Ryuunosuke had given her that morning.  
"Ohayo, neesan!"   
"Illya! You shouldn't be here, you know, neesan is working."   
"Aw, really? But I brought donuts! What a pity, suppose I'll just eat them myself-"  
"On second thought, come in! Neesan could use a little break." chuckled Eritrea, both impressed and amused by Illya's persuasion tactics.

Eritrea wiped off a chocolate smudge from Illya's ruddy cheeks.  
"So what brings you here, princess? Got bored pestering Rider?"  
"Actually I came to see how you were doing, neesan."  
"I'm feeling a little hyper now, thanks to all that sugar."  
"I meant your job offer, neesan."

Eritrea sighed, knowing that even though her cousin had the appearance of a child, she was very much the opposite. Perhaps making a clean breast of her emotions right now would be better than pretending everything was alright.

"I don't know, Illya. About the Association, this Shinigami business, Diarmuid and Archer... Everything is a mess and your neesan doesn't know what to do about it."  
"I think you _do_ know, you're just afraid to do it." said the homunculus, putting her little hand over her cousin's.  
"Can't we all just stay together? If I leave it feels like it was all for nothing. If I was goanna leave eventually then why come back in the first place?"  
"Well you see, neesan, I think it's like this." said Illya, picking up the last donut. "Do you ever think, 'why eat a donut if I'll finish it in a few bites?' Maybe you'll get a little sad when you realize you're about to finish it. But knowing that only makes you cherish it even more."

Eritrea answered her cousin with a quizzical look, not really knowing what she meant.

"The point is, neesan, the donut is not forever but we are given the chance to savor every bite of it. Even if we don't spend our lives together forever, it doesn't mean that what we had meant anything less. We love you and we will respect whatever decision you make, provided it's made with hope and courage, not fear and guilt."

In that moment, the Commander felt less of an adult compared to the person before her. She smiled fondly at Illya, proud of her maturity. Having said that, the homunculus hopped off her chair and made her way to the door.

"Illya?"  
"Hai, neesan?" smiled the girl, turning around.  
"...Thank you."

She nodded, giving her neesan an adorable thumbs-up as a sign of encouragement before skipping out of the office.

 _I learn something new every day._ thought Eritrea before resuming her work.

The hours ticked by and not long after, she had another visitor.

"Afternoon, Commander. I'm here for the reports you got this morning."  
"Perfect timing, Ryuunosuke. I've just finished them. I'll be leaving early today, after I write one other thing." said Eritrea, handing over a stack of folders before switching out her ball-point pen for fancier stationery.  
"That was quick! Otsukare sama deshita!" 

Curious about this 'one other thing', Ryuunosuke peeked at his superior from behind the documents he was holding.

"Oh? A fountain pen? What's the occasion?"  
"You'll know soon enough." smiled Eritrea, her eyes to the paper. "If Waver doesn't find this later today, be a dear and give it to him for me before he goes home."  
"Can do, boss." beamed the young man, with his eyes closed into slits and one hand raised in cheeky salute. "I'll be on my way then, thanks for finishing the reports!"

Once she finished, Eritrea left the office and headed for the train station. Just another cycle she repeated everyday, and it wasn't likely to change now.

 **Urahara Shop.**  
Urahara was out on the porch with a cup of a tea, relaxing in the afternoon heat. The black cat curled up beside him broke the silence.

"The Hollows have been more aggressive lately. Don't you think you should have done a better job at persuading her, Kisuke?"

The owner went inside the kitchen, grabbing a bowl of milk while he considered his reply. When he returned, a slow smile spread across his features. He set the bowl down and the cat eagerly lapped up its contents. Looking at the person in his courtyard, with her long hair and fiery eyes, he answered.

"Seems that won't be necessary after all."

Urahara led the way inside, opening a hatch and climbing down the ladder with Eritrea following behind.

"Come on, Eritrea-san, this way."   
"You can drop the honorific, my first name is long enough. Is the cat really coming along?"  
"Of course, she's an important part of all this." winked the owner.

Halfway down the ladder, Eritrea gasped, nearly losing her grip on the rungs.

"You have a secret cave underneath the candy store?! Holy sh-"  
"Ah Eritrea, sorry to cut you off but you might want to come down first before you marvel at anything."  
"Right, of course."

Once Eritrea's feet were firmly planted on the ground, Urahara began his explanation.

"First things first, hold still."

By instinct, Eritrea ducked the attack, but Urahara was faster than her. Much faster. Hitting her in the solar plexus, she felt as if her spirit had been separated from her body.

"What the hell was that?!"  
"It's a soul-removing glove, quite self-explanatory. Your Shinigami training cannot be done in human form. However as I said before, your spiritual energy is capable of the transition so through rigorous training in spirit form it will change into a Shinigami's and sooner or later you won't need this anymore. I'd have given you a Soul Candy but I didn't think you'd like the idea of someone else operating your body."

Eritrea squatted beside her lifeless figure, poking the cheek.   
"So this must be what being dead and alive at the same time is like."

"Now, Yoruichi-san will oversee your training while I supervise."  
"Who's that?"  
"You'll see." chuckled the shopkeeper.

A billow of mist emerged out of nowhere, shrouding what appeared to be a woman. I've been drugged, was Eritrea's first thought.

The woman in question had dark skin, golden irises and waist long hair tied back into a ponytail with bangs framing the sides of her face. She stuck out a hand to the Commander.

"The name's Yoruichi Shihōin, yoroshiku!" she grinned, seemingly unaware of or indifferent to the fact that she was butt-naked.

The cloud of mist was beginning to fade away into mere wisps, revealing more _intimate_ parts. Urahara took note of the flabbergasted expression on Eritrea's face.

"Aree? Doshta, Eritrea? Aren't you goanna shake her hand?"  
"N-Nevermind that, give her some clothes first!"

"Ah, forgive me, forgive me." said Yoruichi, putting on some garments that Urahara handed to her. "I haven't worn clothes in ages, so it's just..."  
"Good thing I had them with me. I think you scared her, Yoruichi-san."  
"I can't help it, clothes are so confining."

Composing herself, Eritrea closed her eyes and shook her head.

_Naked cat women and perverted candy shop owners. Man, I'm in for a rough ride._

**The Association.**  
"Eritrea, I have a few more reports here for-"

Waver entered the office and found that Eritrea's desk was clear, save for a piece of paper. On the front was a short line of cursive handwriting he recognized.

**_For Waver Velvet._ **

He unfolded the letter and read the contents silently.

**_To my friend and trusted colleague,_ **   
**_I finished this morning's reports before writing this letter and leaving for Karakura. I suppose now you'll be having longer hours at the office. But before you decide to punish me by confiscating my tea, know that I have requested Captain Izumi Curtis to share the burden with you. Though not an official replacement, she will assist you in my absence._ **

**_Do tell the others back home for me and give them my love. As for payback, I once rescued Queen Elizabeth's nephew so she owes me a favour. I could get you knighted if you'd like. Playful suggestions aside, I'm afraid I must ask too much of you this time, my friend, as I don't know how long I'll be away. But I know that when I finally leave, it will be without regrets. I have you and many others to thank for that. Take care and hopefully, we'll see each other soon._ **

**_With gratitude,_ **   
**_Commander Eritrea Yunani._ **

Waver Velvet looked up from the letter, taking in the silence of Eritrea's office and her now empty chair. However, there was a smile on his face. Gazing out the window, he chuckled quietly.

_You've finally made up your mind, eh? Guess I'll have to finish up these reports myself._

The British founder carefully tucked the note into his pocket, then turned on his heels and made haste for the Emiya residence.

**Author's Note: 'Otsukare sama deshita' means 'good job', 'Aree' means 'huh' and 'doshta' means 'what's wrong'.**

 

 


	47. Chapter 47

****

**Sonnet Nineteen: Chapter Four**

When Eritrea made her decision, a new journey had begun for her. The master was once again a student, the expert had gone back to a beginner. Commander Eritrea was now like a newborn baby, introduced to a world beyond her knowledge, learning skills that were different compared to those she was equipped with. Even hand-to-hand combat had evolved to a whole new level.

Waver Velvet on the other hand, was close to dying from the additional workload and convinced that he was getting a receding hairline, but relieved that his friend had found direction in her life.

As for the members of the Emiya household, they went about their lives as usual. But even though every day was filled with laughter, companionship, and the occasional argument, there were two gentlemen who couldn't help feeling that things as they were, weren't quite right just yet.

 **Six months later.**  
"Ya~ You both beat each other up pretty well today. Otsukare sama! Lunch is on the table." said Urahara, giving Eritrea a light pat on her shoulder where a bruise was already showing.  
"Thank you. But still, it's really not easy to land a hit on the Queen of Shunpo."

At this, Yoruichi approached her student, teasingly slapping the bruised flesh.

"You can hold your own against me already, and that's something. Now, enough talk, let's eat!"

As Eritrea began tucking in, Urahara pulled Yoruichi away to a corner, speaking in hushed tones.

"My Hollow detection radar is quite active, tonight would be the best time to do it."  
"Alright, make the call." nodded Yoruichi before joining Eritrea in the dining area.

Urahara dialed a number and waited patiently for the recipient to answer.

"Moshi moshi, Diarmuid? This is Urahara."  
"Hello, Urahara-san. What can I do for you?"  
"Well you see, Eri-chan has been working really hard lately and I think it'd be a nice surprise if you came to visit. You can bring the others if you like. Is nine-thirty tonight okay?"  
"It's perfect, we'll see you then. Thank you, Urahara-san." replied Diarmuid, subtle excitement in his voice.  
"Jā, matane!"

Putting down the phone, Diarmuid smiled to himself. Finally, they would be able to see her again. For the past six months, Eritrea had been staying in Karakura, training day in and day out. The only contact they ever had with her were text messages and updates from Urahara or Yoruichi on her progress.

Diarmuid entered the living room where his friends were watching television with an unusual lightness in his steps.

"Everyone, I have a surprise."

After catching the evening train, Diarmuid and Archer walked the streets of Karakura, their steps carrying anticipation and reluctance. The night air was cool and crisp, perfect for a journey on foot. The only thing odd about this picture was the absence of five other companions. Let's wind back the clock a few hours, shall we?

 **Emiya** **Residence.**  
"We think that only you and Archer should go." said Arturia.  
"Why's that?" asked Diarmuid, who had expected a more cheerful response.  
"We'll still get a chance to see her before she actually leaves. You three have something else to settle between yourselves."

Reminded of the dilemma he was still involved in, Diarmuid's enthusiasm dissipated and his gaze fell to the floor. Archer patted him on the back.

"Arturia's right. It's time we straighten things out for good."

It was their first time feeling nervous on their way to a candy store.

 _Nine-fifteen._ thought Diarmuid, glancing at his watch to distract himself from the jitters.

"Oi, you alright?" said Archer.  
"Oh? Yes, I'm perfectly fine, thank you."  
"Diarmuid."  
"Yes?"   
"I'm sorry I was pissed at you when Eritrea got hurt. She told me and I know it wasn't your fault."  
"That's alright." he smiled, a tinge of guilt in his eyes. Archer could see that even though he didn't blame Diarmuid, the man certainly blamed himself.

"Hey. It wasn't your fault. I mean that, and so does she."  
"Thank you, Archer."  
"If she chooses you, just know that I'm on your side. It's all good."  
"Likewise."

Archer extended a hand.  
"May the best man win."  
Diarmuid shook it, accepting his challenge.

A gust of wind passed by, but instead of relaxing them it sent an uncomfortable chill down their spine. Diarmuid thought he heard a distant howl, sinister and familiar. Looking over at Archer, he saw that he too was on edge.

"Run." muttered Diarmuid, barely audible.  
"What?"  
"We're in danger, run!" he cried, pulling his friend by the sleeve and sprinting away.

Archer panted, "What the hell is going on?!"   
"That _thing_ is after us."  
"Thing?"

Suddenly, he remembered Eritrea's wounded forearm and cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

"You don't mean..."  
"Yes, I do. For now we need to escape."  
"Where are we going?"  
"Urahara's shop, five blocks from here."  
"But that'll lead it to them!"  
"He's prepared for it, trust me!"

 _Damn it!_ thought Archer, grinding his teeth. _That candy store guy better have some tricks up his sleeve._

Little did they know, Urahara Kisuke would not be coming to their aid tonight.

The duo continued their mad dash down the desolate road, hoping to God that whatever was on their tail didn't catch them before they reached their destination.

Diarmuid took a hurried look behind him and could have sworn he saw a claw just before it disappeared altogether.

"How much further?!" yelled Archer, not caring if he woke the neighbors.  
"Two blocks! It's the third house down the right!"

A second later, the hairs on Diarmuid's nape stood up.  
 _It's gaining on us. We won't make it._  
He cursed silently, angry with himself.  
 _Again. Again I'm helpless and this time it could actually cost us our lives._  
Diarmuid clenched his fists, getting a grip on his emotions.  
 _No. I'm not letting anyone else get hurt. Not anymore._

He let out a cry as a talon lacerated his left calve. Archer didn't get the chance to help Diarmuid before being pushed away. Stumbling forward, he spun around to find his friend lying face down, blood already pooling at his leg.

"GO TO THE SHOP, GET URAHARA!"

Archer did as he was told, and relief washed over Diarmuid's features as he watched his diminishing figure. He knew that only one of them would survive, and it wasn't him. By the time help arrived it would be too late.

A tear fell from Diarmuid's eyes but not from the pain of his injury, he had faced far worse back in his days as a Heroic Spirit. The cause of his suffering was that he didn't get a chance to say goodbye to the woman he loved.

_I wish we had more time..._

Held down with his back to the enemy, he took a deep breath, preparing himself. This would not be a mere laceration anymore, the next cut was certain and it would be intended to kill. Diarmuid waited for the finishing blow with his eyes closed, strangely calm.

His time had come.

"Hado no san-jū ichi, Shakkaho!"

Or not.

An orb of red energy landed on the target and exploded upon impact. When the smoke cleared, Diarmuid saw a figure against the moon, holding a sword that glimmered beneath the pale light. The figure swooped in, swinging their blade at the monster.

So quick were the movements that even an arc of light was left behind where the sword struck. Landing beside him was the one person Diarmuid thought he would never see again.

"Eritrea..." he breathed, taken aback by the sheer power emanating from her.  
"Diarmuid." she replied, her expression softening. "You're hurt, we need to get you back."  
"I've had worse, but you... you..."  
Eritrea laughed quietly, "I didn't spend those six months doing nothing, Diarmuid." 

The sound of multiple footsteps caught their attention and they turned around to see Urahara, Yoruichi and Archer. Archer came over, slinging Diarmuid's arm over his neck to support him.

"A clean kill." Yoruichi smiled, patting her student on the shoulder.

"You're ready."

With his face half-hidden by the shadows, Urahara gave Eritrea a thoughtful wink.

 **Urahara** **Shop.**  
"It was a test." explained Archer as he tended to Diarmuid's wound. "When I went off to find Urahara, those two found me first. Obviously Eritrea wasn't told about this, that's why she didn't arrive before you got injured. It was meant to test her on everything, from sensing and locating the Hollow's presence, to Kidō and combat."  
"Kidō?"  
"Magic that the Shinigami use, Urahara told me everything while we were watching her fight."  
"I see." replied Diarmuid, looking at Archer contemplatively. Archer understood the message and nodded.

Because of the battle they just witnessed, the two finally saw how capable Eritrea had become. And with that strength, she carried a more significant responsibility. Any personal opposition they had towards her leaving now ceased to exist. They would no longer hold her back, because she had another world to change, not just their own.

 **The Association.**  
Captain Izumi Curtis stood first in line with seven troops, facing eight more in front of her.

"Present arms!"

The synchronized sounds of moving artillery filled the air. Eritrea walked down the gap, eyes looking straight ahead. When she turned around at the end of the line, the sixteen soldiers, fifteen of which she had personally served with for ten years, took one step forward and pivoted their bodies to face her.

They lowered their rifles, shooting up their right hand for one final salute. Ex-Commander Eritrea Yunani did the same, eyeing each of her subordinates.

"Gentlemen, Captain." she nodded. "It's been an honour."  
The infantry stood firm as Izumi replied on their behalf, "Likewise."

Outside, a thousand other soldiers were gathered, seeing-off the former commander with their hands held high in salute. As Captain Izumi Curtis watched her leave the premises she sighed to herself.

"How many times will you have to walk out the door until you find the one place you're meant to stay?"  
An orange-haired supervisor came up from behind and stood next to her.  
"Look a little closer, Captain."

With his clipboard tucked under one arm, Ryuunosuke rested a hand on her shoulder.

"She already has."

Evening had arrived once Eritrea entered Christchurch Cathedral after the military send-off. She approached the dais and knelt on the ground, observing the interior in silence. Pastor Alex was nowhere to be found.

Leaving without an actual goodbye might have been impossible for others, but between the right people, words are not always necessary. Eritrea bowed her head and closed her eyes in prayer.

"Okāsan, otōsan, Kiritsugu, Sensei...oyasumi."

With that, Eritrea got up and was about to turn on her heels when her eyes were drawn towards a wooden booth in a gloomy corner. The strings of her intuition tugged inside and the corners of her lips curled upwards into a faint smile. When Eritrea walked out that church for the last time, she walked out a different person.

The chapel doors swung to a close, groaning under the weight of holy hymns, earnest repentances and declarations of gratitude.

Seated in one of the confessionals, a European priest had heard the final words and unwavering footsteps of Eritrea Yunani. Pastor Alex Louis Armstrong glanced heavenward and smiled. His prayers had been answered.

Just then, a gust of wind slipped through the church windows, blowing out the flaming candles and leaving long wisps of smoke clinging to the air. The flickering tips were stolen from their wicks as if they never saw it coming, the somber promises they carried whisked away to a far and unforetold destiny.

Within the moonlit shadows of a Japanese manor, the captain of the Gotei Thirteen's Sixth Division was meditating. Outside, the cherry blossoms were in full bloom and the night was calm. The sable-haired gentleman opened his eyes to see a candle whose flame had previously been blown out by an evening breeze...

Suddenly brought back to life.

Diarmuid and Archer trudged down a lonely stretch of road with their friends. The night was darker than usual, as though an ebony veil had been draped over the city.

The two gentlemen had already come to terms with Eritrea's decision. In fact, they supported it. But no matter how great the cause, it would taste a lie to say it didn't hurt watching the one you love walk away.

When they arrived at a bridge, Diarmuid found Eritrea waiting beside Yoruichi. His golden eyes found their way to her dark brown ones and they lingered for a moment.

Constellations marked the night sky like cosmic tattoos, but they were dim and dull in comparison for he knew that the brightest star would no longer give light to this world.

At least,

Not his.

_Play soundtrack above before proceeding._

Eritrea Yunani nearly lost her footing trying to catch Illya, who assaulted her with a bone-crushing hug and a stream of tears.

"Neesan... Neesan..." wailed the homunculus, clinging to her for dear life.  
"Hai, hai. Nakanaide." she replied, ruffling her hair. "For someone so precocious you still behave like a child sometimes."

She noticed Shirou was standing to one side, trying his best not to look emotional.

"What's wrong, Shirou? Not goanna hug your neesan?"   
The ginger approached Eritrea, taking her into his arms.  
"Neesan... Stay strong...and fight even when things get tough...and never give up...and don't wash potatoes before storing them or they'll spoil early." he sobbed.  
"As usual, all you talk about is cooking and fighting. Maybe you should be a stay-at-home husband, Shirou."   
Letting go, Eritrea spoke softly.  
"You two be good. And take care of each other, alright?"

Illya nodded, still sniffling whilst Shirou wiped away his tears and clenched his fist with determination.

Waver pulled Eritrea into a tight hug, surprising her with this outright display of affection.

"I'll keep some green tea around my office if you ever decide to drop by."   
She chuckled, holding back her tears, "Thank you for saving me all those years ago. Without you and Rider, none of this would have been possible."  
"Of course, my friend."

"Glory lies beyond the horizon." bellowed Rider, grinning at Eritrea.  
"You use to say that a lot."  
"And I still believe in it. Don't be too worried about fighting the good fight. When you find a way to live that you can truly be proud of, you'll be forced into your own battle whether you want to or not. You'll have plenty of time to look for your battlefield then."   
"Thanks for rescuing me back then, big guy." murmured Eritrea, looking like a doll in Rider's burly arms.  
"You're welcome. Now, to conquest!"

"I still remember the day we first met. You were just a girl caught up in a war with fire in her soul. Now you've become a woman of strength and grace." declared Saber, beaming like a proud mother.   
"I could say the same for you." chuckled Eritrea, embracing her. "Thank you for being my friend, Arturia."  
"Thank _you_."

"We've come a long way, haven't we?" said Archer, unexpectedly nostalgic.  
"We have."   
"I didn't see it before, but I do now. I see who you are and who you're meant to be, even if I'm not a part of that. This sounds a little sappy but... I'm proud of you. And even though we're not meant to be together, I'm proud that I fell for a woman like you."  
Eritrea wrapped her arms around him, "Thank you."  
Archer stroked her head, "Dry your tears, and go kick some ass."

Lancer looked down upon Eritrea, lost in some fond and distant memory. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Don't go breaking too many hearts."  
"You should ask for something more realistic." she laughed, pulling him into her embrace.  
He gave her a little squeeze.  
"And try not to be so reckless."  
"You're one to talk."  
"Yeah, yeah." grinned Lancer, letting her go.

"You never did like settling down, did you?"  
The pair shared a quiet laugh over Diarmuid's remark.  
"One season of my life is over, another begins. Maybe this time I'll settle."  
"Even if you don't there, I know you will someday. Now then..."  
Diarmuid touched her face, kissing her forehead with closed eyes.  
"Best foot forward young lady, the world awaits."

A wistful smile crept into the corners of Eritrea's lips as she gazed at her friends. The next two syllables were perhaps the most difficult things she had ever had to say.

"Goodbye."

Eritrea hoped they didn't hear the subtle crack in her voice, but she knew better than that.

"Guess you both lost, again. Ah well, at least she's got a new adventure ahead of her." said Lancer, clapping his friends on the back.  
"True, it didn't turn out the way we planned. But she found herself. That's enough for me." replied Archer.  
"She was never meant to choose anyone after all." continued Lancer.  
"Īe." began Diarmuid, a smile on his face, still gazing at her. Both his friends turned to look at him.

The Senkaimon opened, Yoruichi walked ahead with Eritrea trailing behind. She turned around one last time to look at her beloved friends, the incandescent light shining behind her.

Seeing her smile, Diarmuid's mind flashed back to some of Eritrea's last words when she left ten years ago. Just before the Senkaimon closed, he finished his sentence.

"She chose herself."

Under the brim of his hat, Urahara's lips curved upwards at Diarmuid's response.

Passing through the Dangai was like trying to outrun a black hole. The dark, isolated void loomed overhead like ink spilled out from a bottle. As Yoruichi ran alongside her student, her face glowed with pride.

_I remember having this feeling when I first met_ _Ichigo_ _. The feeling that someone was goanna bring about a tremendous change to our world, the likes of which have never been seen before. Now this, is goanna be one_ _Shinigami_ _to watch._

Up ahead, a circle of light gradually expanded and Eritrea's breath hitched in anticipation.

"Welcome,"

The blinding curtain of light drew back to reveal a city at sunset.

"To Seireitei."

 **Four months later.**  
 **Fuyuki** **, Japan.**  
"Rider, Illya, time for lunch!" yelled Shirou, putting away his apron while Arturia set the table.

When his call went unanswered, Shirou sighed before hollering again.

"Hai, hai..." replied Illya, sitting down beside Rider, her partner in crime.

Arturia crossed her arms, displeased with Illya's behaviour.

"Illya, you should come to the table the minute Shirou calls. It's rude to keep others waiting like that. And Rider, you should lead by example."  
"We're both here now, aren't we? Gee, you and Shirou are like an old married couple."

Just like that, the two grownups became a flustered mess, blushing furiously as they denied any relation of the sort.

"Fear not, Shirou. You shall conquer that booty someday!" bellowed Rider.  
"Would you like an early death, Rider?!" fumed Arturia, drawing a wooden katana while Shirou attempted to smooth her ruffled feathers.

The commotion wore on, all four of them completely unaware of the black cat with yellow eyes who sat watching by the windowsill, tittering at their childishness.

 **Kyoto, Japan.**  
"Well maybe if you weren't such a dimwit we wouldn't be in this situation!" Archer shouted at Lancer.  
"Hey! I'll have you know that I knocked out ten guards using my fists alone!"  
"Yes, and the rest of the infantry found you because you hid in the wrong room!"  
"I'm dyslexic, plus the writing on the doors looked funny!"  
"Gentlemen please, we're almost at the exit. Let's keep the arguments to a minimum until we return." intervened Diarmuid, peacekeeper of the group.

In a short span of four months, the trio who had been placed in charge of the Association by Eritrea had made a name for themselves as an infamous group of rescuers and lady-killers. Though they hadn't held their positions for long, it was clear to see that the former Commander had made a wise decision.

For his amusement, Waver Velvet even made a clip of the three walking up a hill with their artillery as the backdrop exploded behind them. Succinctly put, a lot of women in the Association experienced breathing difficulties that day.

 **Seireitei** **.**  
Lieutenant Renji's uniform was stained by the blood of his fallen comrades as well as his own. Yet the Sixth Division's fukutaichō wielded his sword with courage and obstinacy, refusing to be defeated.

He had to hold out, at least until _she_ arrived. Just when everything had gone to hell, a long shadow was cast over his frame.

He glanced upwards to see an imposing figure highlighted by the rays of the moon. Light ran along the edge of a blade as the woman drew it from its sheathe, illuminating the sharpened curve. 

As their enemy gazed death in the eye, time slowed to a stop, the universe holding its breath. There are times when one cannot fully grasp the dangers of their circumstances until a specific moment. Before that pivotal event, everything else blurs out, waiting for something to distinctly draw the line between black and white.

This was it.

With one word, the hands of the clock started ticking again. A deep, female voice resounded, slicing through the midnight air like the katana in her hand.

**_"_ ** **_Bankai_ ** **_."_ **

**Author's Note: The flame rekindling the blown out candle represents Eritrea and the change she is about to bring to** **Seireitei** **.**

 

 


	48. Chapter 48

**Sonnet Nineteen: Epilogue**

_Play soundtrack above before proceeding._

**5 years later.**  
"Domooo~" said a cheery voice, entering the Japanese mansion.  
"Urahara-san, Yoruichi-san, what brings you here?" smiled Diarmuid.  
"We just came by to drop this off." said Yoruichi, handing him a card. "Where's everyone else?"

"Shirou and Saber are out on a date, Rider and Illya are at the grocery store. Just me and these two knuckleheads here right now." replied Archer, approaching them with Ireland's Man of Light caught in a headlock.  
"You're the only knucklehead around here... What's this?" asked Lancer, finally getting out from Archer's muscular arms.  
"See for yourself." grinned Urahara.

 _**You have been cordially invited to witness the induction of:** _  
_**Eritrea Yunani** _  
_**as Second Lieutenant of the Sixth Division** _

_**Wednesday, 12th of April at 8 o' clock in the evening** _  
_**Kuchiki** _ _**Mansion,** _ _**Seireitei** _ _**.** _

"It's when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom. They picked a good date." said Yoruichi.  
"The induction ceremony will be done by Captain Kuchiki Byakuya himself!" added Urahara with a twinkle in his eye.  
"Byakuya-boy is really pulling out all the stops, using his mansion."

Diarmuid was still looking at the invitation, a subtle smile in the corners of his mouth.

_I never thought I'd live to see the day you'd settle down. I'm glad I was wrong._

Lancer slapped Archer on the shoulder and declared with a grin.  
"Why don't we go over before the ceremony starts and roughhouse the Captain a bit? I'd like to see how strong he is."  
"Eheh, I wouldn't do that if I were you." replied Urahara, hiding behind his fan as he sweated nervously.

The chatter continued but all Diarmuid could hear was a rustle of wind outside and the musings of his heart. He turned to look at the cherry blossom tree through the open doors.

The blushing buds were slowly unfurling with delicate yet unwavering determination, shaking off the last frozen kisses of winter as they prepared to bloom in all their floral magnificence.

Standing beneath the tree, he saw Eritrea admiring the blossoms, her fingertips lightly touching the branches before turning to look at him with her windswept hair.

Her eyes softened and her lips turned upwards into a genuine smile—the one that was always able to snatch away his breath and make his heart swoop.

"The flower that blooms in the midst of adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all."

Diarmuid closed his eyes and looking at the tree again, found she was no longer there. Of course, it had all been his imagination. But if Eritrea had really been there, he felt she would've said the exact same words.

_Twelfth of April, huh?_

The small smile that graced his lips reached his eyes and shone like the sun.

_A full moon will be out.  
_

 

_The End._

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
